Friday, January 28, 2011


MONTREAL - With the All-Star break upon us, now is a good time to evaluate your Montreal Canadiens and how they have done up to the unofficial half-way point of the season. Are they good? Are the bad? Are they contenders? Or are they just pretenders? Do you like them? Or do you hate them?

So let us make that evaluation...

First, some of the individual players:

  • P.K. Subban - This kid is what the NHL is missing. Commissaire Bettman wants to promote the league, but he wants the players to be dull and drab too (you can't have it all, Betty). This kid has the flamboyance of an NFL wide receiver, a talented NBA All-Star, or that drunk guy on the bus who wears his underwear on the outside of his pants. But admit it... If this guy played for any other team, you would hate the SHIT out of him.

  • Scott Gomez - Hey, NHL! Gomez's move is to carry the puck into the zone by himself and stop short just after the blueline looking for someone to pass to. He never shoots either, so don't worry about blocking shooting lanes. Shhh... It's a secret... Or at least it must be since no one appears to have picked up on it despite the number of years he's been in the league.

  • Hal Gill - God forbid an opponent get's behind this guy on a break. My grandmother skates faster than this dude. She likely takes a harder shot too. And she probably makes better cupcakes. For shame, Gill. For SHAME!!!

  • Andrei Kostitsyn - Psst... The net is that way.

  • Tomas Plekanec - Honestly... The goatee and turtleneck thing? For some reason that reminds me: how is Stephane Richer doing these days?

  • Carey Price - You know he'd be so much better if he didn't listen to country music.

    And the team:

  • Put simply: this is an exciting team to watch! They clog up the neutral zone, stifle speed, limit shots, grind in the corners, take little to no chances, get it deep, change lines, repeat. Oh wait, did I say exciting? Zzzzzz....

  • The powerplay is awesome! Except for when it's not. Because when it's not, good lord! Did you guys just learn to skate? Are you holding your sticks upside down? Is your helmet on backwards? The PP is great, or it's AWEFUL (and that does not mean "full of awe").

  • The penaltykill is awesome! Actually, it kind of is. Well, unless Plekanec is in the box.

  • I hear line changes are a bit of a problem. Can't be that bad though. This is a professional team, afterall. It's not like they'd take more than one or two penalties a year, right? What's that? ... NINE TIMES?!?

  • This team's 5-on-5 play is pretty good. Except for when it suddenly becomes 6-on-5 play. See above.

  • Don't you HATE that you LOVE these guys?

    More updates as events warrant.
  • Friday, January 21, 2011


    In every industry, it’s all about getting an edge, how to stand out from your competitors. And it’s no different for newshounds. Now, as you well know, one thing (some say the ONLY thing) Habsbros is good at is standing out. Foreseeing this, as well as the need to one day be forced to get our hands on some inner-circle straight dope to infuse our stories with the proper pathos they deserve, we planted a sleeper agent within the organization. Your sneaky reporter himself was the one who activated that agent with the key phrase “potato salad looks good, eh?” when sidled up to him at the cafeteria.
    Operation: Gaining access by any means (GABAM!) is now underway. It has taken weeks for the proper conditions to assemble themselves in order to set our dastardly plan into motion. If we have neglected our duties towards our readers as a result, then we beg forgiveness, but…with the economy, the lack of parking spaces outside the port-o-potty/office of Habsbros Central, well… good personnel is hard to come by so we often gots to do this our own damn selves. Yeah, it’s a bitch. Ain’t gonna lie. There’s danger of exposure at any second, risk of alienation at any moment, and the smell of nasty jock-strap at every turn; it’s not easy. But we do it anyway. Out of love. Love for you, dear readers. Whenever the odour of nasty, rotten, crawling, probably fungus-infected 10-yr-old nut cups hits our nostrils, we think of you, because that’s what gives us the motivation to carry on.
    It wasn’t easy to sabotage Max Pacioretty’s equipment. It wasn’t easy to bribe Buffalo Sabre Mike Weber to hurt one of our own players. Do you know how hard it is to give someone the flu on purpose? It’s not easy. These were the moral hurdles we had to jump every day.
    The crimp in our plan was Dustin Boyd. The front office believed that no one would claim him on re-entry if he was called back up. And we were tempted to believe it. But good luck with that, because the grapevine says Boyd was so pissed about being relegated to the minors, he not only wouldn’t give it 100% on the ice, but would actively seek to score in his own net then key Gauthier’s car after the game. The whole situation was very delicate. It wasn’t hard to start the rumour.
    With these obstacles out of the way, our mole’s integration to the club was assured. Fair-haired, fair-eyed, fair-heighted, fair-weighted, no distinguishing features apart a distinctly bovine look, which suits him (and us) quite well, all things considered, we consider him to be the epitome of “bland”. A 4th line player who, as opposed to Tom Pyatt or Ryan White (initially proposed as candidates for the operation), has an unpronounceable name, and of course, it’s a scientific fact that people don’t talk to folks who have unpronounceable names. Our man is therefore anonymous as well as androgynous. His attributes have meshed into a perfect storm. Talented enough to keep up with other players but not talented enough to attract attention. Foreign enough to be ignored but Aryan enough to be given the benefit of the doubt as to his presence in the dressing-room; he’s absolutely ideal.
    Here are his prime directives: 1) confirm or deny Pleky running out of gas. 2) confirm or deny Iginla acquisition. 3) observe and report on jock-strap cleaning methods.
    The fourth directive, of course, is classified. Security reasons.
    We expect Swede muffins to be whispered in our ear in no time at all.
    More updates when such warrants.