HABS SHOW WEAKNESS, MERCY

Like a streaking comet from Sector Z-Alpha in the Coma Berenices, the greatest hockey team in the history of the world pursues its quest to show the universe how pretty it is. However, in a moment of shocking inhumanity not unlike that terrible scene in “Schindler’s List” where Ralph chastises Liam at the train station, the Bell Centre Boys showed astonishing cruelty during Game 3 of the Eastern Conference Quarterfinals of these 2011 NHL Playoffs. Indeed, while dismantling the ridiculous Boston Bruins for the past few days, your sensational Montreal Canadiens have displayed a card not seen often by its wholly championship-deserving fan base, the mercy card. And the last thing the Bruins need now is mercy. Who does not know the famous saying “Let us put you out of your mercy”? Words to live by. Putting someone out of his or her mercy is a noble and humane thing to do. Instead, the Bruins get their wagon hosed down and live another day, thus prolonging their agony in manners as humiliating for them as they will be effortless for the Habs. That was a cruel thing do, for the Montreal Canadiens have only given the Bruins false hope.

Some would propose that toying with them as does the cat with the mouse sharpens the predator’s killer instinct, but there’s always that chance, no matter how slight, that the mouse may escape, run under the house maybe, find a hole up into the pantry somehow, start gnawing into your aged brie, sleeping in the chicken bouillon mix, taking his craps in the corn flakes, you get the idea. Suddenly, you’re like “Hey, Mr. Fluffikins, what the hell? I got mouse shite between my teeth and my soup tastes like hairy plaster; why didn’t you kill that frikker when you had the chance?!”

So why the mercy?

Your committed reporter rang Jack Marty’s doorbell for 45 minutes last night in order to seek out the straight dope once the coach inevitably accepted to open up.

-How exactly did this mercy card thing come into effect?

“We didn't compete the first 30 minutes of the

game. We figured that would do it.”

-No, I mean, why show mercy when you’ve clearly proven yourself to be the superior club? Why not finish your opponents off?

“Mercy isn’t physical. It's mental. It’s all happening up here” said Jack tapping his forehead. “It's your responsibility as a professional to be ready to show mercy when the time is right. (he paused) And I forgot my cuff-links at the Boston Four-Seasons, I get them on my time, that’s 1200 bucks out of my pocket and this way...hey, are you texting that?!”

The tone perceived in the last question was your cunning reporter’s cue that the interview was

over forthwith. The lunge towards the smartphone however, was the cue that it was time to run.

-I’m out, fatty! Bookin, yo!

“Hey! Get back here! Jeeves, release the raccoons! Hey, that fence is electrified, buddy! It’s your funeral if you touch it, I swear to god!”

He was bluffing about the fence. Curiously though, not so much about the raccoons. The pants were lost but the straight dope was secured regardless and dutifully passed on to you, dear reader.

More updates when hallucinations and frothing at mouth subside.

THE PRICEBERG COMETH AND THAT RIGHT GNARLY

Not unlike the worst carnage Satan’s brattiest Hellspawn could ever get up to, such is the manner in which your Stupendous Montreal Canadiens wreaked havoc against the same-old unsuspecting victims of yesteryear...stop us when this isn’t funny anymore.

It has been a long and arduous trek from the shadows of anonymity that was the regular season to the halls of prominence the NHL Playoffs hold in store, but The Beautiful Team is more than up for the challenge in this Anno 2011…especially if last night’s dismantling of the eternally indulgent Boston Bruins is of any indication. Cuz…damn, what better circus act is there? The strongman drops the barbell on his head and the trapezist swings away with the girl; it’s amazing!

That the Bruins would display their time-honored skills of choke-job artistry isn’t surprising. That the visitors would present themselves as lambs for the slaughter only to later reveal themselves as wolves in possums’ clothing and eventually humiliate the Bruins in front of their fans and all the world to see for the who-knows-how-manieth time isn’t anything to start ringing the church bell about either. No doubt that after 80 years of back and forth, certain tendencies don’t only have the scent of familiarity, they downright stink of it, so all in all, this latest miasma was par for the course between these clubs at the end Game 1. Habs up; Bruins down. Such is the way of the world.

But what did come to light in all the hoopla, is how utterly tremendous the Priceberg looked. How spectacularly and fabulously his stock has come to rise. How totally unequivocally his stature as the superstar

goalie of the hour, bar none, has been established.

Despite all the tough talk, despite the assurance their regular season victories at the Habs’ expense gave them, which account for HALF of the victories the Montreal Canadiens registered against them, mind you, despite their vaunted size and strength and supposed ability to clog up the crease and “take away the Kid’s eyes”, the Bruins ultimately did what they did best against the greatest hockey team in the history of the world: they lost handily and were dominated by a peachfuzzy goalie.

Watching the drama unfold and the Bruins’ confidence suffering blow after blow shift after shift, your faithful reporter couldn’t help but be reminded of his Ecclesiasticus, as you probably all were as well, dear readers. Was it not said:

“The prayers out of the mouths of the Just shall reach the ears of the Kid, and judgment shall come for the wicked speedily. He that has to be reproved in the box walks in the trace of a loser: and he that fears to lose will turn to his own heart and choke on it. He that is mighty by boldness is known afar off, but a skilled man knows to slip the puck by him. He that builds his house as losers before him charge to build his house, is as he that gathers himself stones to build a boat, a loser. The congregation of losers he assembles is now like heaped together, and at the end of either ends is a flame of fire, burning red, and white, and blue. The way of losers is piled high with failures, and in their end is only hell, and darkness, and golf.

But he that keeps justice shall get the understanding thereof. The perfection of the use of fear to waylay those weak of mind is in itself wisdom and understanding. He that is not wise in good, will not be taught, but there is a wisdom that abounds in evil as the wise man knows.”

Game 2 looms, and a fistful of evil may yet descend on the wicked. And like the Capitals and

Penguins before them, the Bruins will “stick to the plan”. From the mouth of upstart babe Brad Marchand, “it has to go in sometime; we just got to keep plugging away”. We north of the border properly encourage this young buck to spread the word.

Has to go in sometime, right?

More updates when evil laugh subsides.