ROPE-A-DOPE

MONTREAL - As game 3 of the Eastern Conference Quarter-Finals looms upon us, the Montreal Canadiens' season appears to hang in the balance. Throngs of Habs supporters chew their nails - fingers and toes - as nervous butterflies make their presence felt. But fret not ye faithful...

We've got them where we want them...

Perhaps the season has looked like a massive poo-bomb to you? Perhaps the inconsistent play of Carey Price over the course of the entire regular-season had you worried? What of the fact that the Canadiens came into the playoffs with Saku "little shorty-pants" Koivu as their only legitimate offensive center?

Maybe you need reminding of just who the Kostitsyn brothers are? Let me help you... They are the brothers who got themselves into trouble for hanging around drug-dealers. You know the guys. They're the ones that got completely outplayed by Toronto's Mikhail Grabovski for just about the entire season.

Remember when Alex Kovalev was the one you wanted traded because he was bringing down the team? Oh! And what about that time when we all identified a defenseman as a pressing need so we went out and got some old geezer that will surely retire next season?

Of course you may be considering the fact that we fired the coach really late in the season and replaced him with the GM, a smart man to be sure, but one with a pretty terrible record. But what else are you gonna do when the team is up for sale? You can't just go out and hire better coaches.

Perhaps you recall the best game of the season? You know the one. Yeah, that game where Alex Kovalev got the first star and won himself a Honda? Those were good times. Didn't count though. But good times nonetheless.

You might even be asking yourself why the best line for much of the season was the 4th line. Fortunately, things have changed and they aren't our best line anymore... Phew... Now they are completely ineffective. Thank goodness...

Well all this stuff may look like a total mess, but trust me. That's been the plan all along. The Canadiens' brass has carefully laid plans for the last 5 years to get us to this moment. This whole season has been a rope-a-dope season. For the Boston Bruins believe that, up two games to none, they have the Canadiens by the proverbial balls. But that's just what we want them to think.

Game on, boys... Game on...

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

Huzzah! The most storied franchise in the history of the world has found a chink in the armour of the NHL and has managed to squeeze its way through to the Holy Dance despite the best efforts of its archnemesis, the Beantown Bruins, who sent fire and hell after Komisarek only to find a poop-eating grin waiting for them. Armageddon and chaos united their abilities and sought to crush the Artiste’s spirit and got a blazing top-corner goal as a response.

Your cheap reporter (pictured left), unable to afford a loge at the Garden was forced to sit amongst the cattle. Happening to glance over, he noticed a man removing his black and gold attire and putting on the fabled red’white’n’blue. "Hadn’t done that in a year!" he exclaimed to the surprise of yours truly and to the detriment of the departing. "Who are you, sir?" asked your perspicacious reporter. "Mentum," said the stranger "first name, Moe." And once the CH was on his back, hot dog if he didn’t grow a foot!

The Dance awaits. And if the Bruins aren’t peeing in their pants right now? They dang well should be. Your reporter has it on divine sources (Moe again) that the most glorious team since the dawn of humanity has a wager going with the Beaners. Pollock SWORE Montreal would beat Boston 75% of the time in the playoffs. It is said that if the Habs serve the Beaners another desparing loss during these playoffs, the 75% is finally attained and GM Chiarelli must change the name of his team from the Boston Bruins to Montreal’s Woman.

Fearing the worst, Chiarelli already commissioned the creation of the new team logo. The design was to denote a strong inclination towards femininity as well as the fragile state of their collective psyches. The logo pictured left is the one they finally settled on, a delicate pink "B" inside a white egg resting on its side. Not bad! We can only hope to see this beautiful coat of arms prancing about the Bell Centre ice come next automn, a fitting demise to the brawn of Boston and the most ridiculous underachievers against whom we’ve had the pleasure of crossing swords. Perhaps one day, if the Beaners do their best to emulate the Habs to the point of obsession, they might attain half of their prestige.

More updates when Pittsburgh goes down.

KOVALEV: HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW?

MONTREAL - As if to give the media the finger and the fans a thumbs-up, Alex Kovalev has been on fire of late. No, let me rephrase that: he's been the God-damn man.

Kovalev is racking up points at a torrid pace having scored 7 points in two games. If he keeps this up, he'll be a point-a-game player (if the NHL suddenly decides to extend the season to 84 games). And that, my friends is a big "F-U" to all those that were down on him.

Your humble reporter, however, never gave up hope and never stopped believing. I was there through thick and thin. When times were bad, I let Alex cry on my shoulder and patted him gently until he finally went to sleep. When times were good, I quietly disposed of the dead hookers. Because that's what a good friend does.

Saturday night against the Leafs, Kovalev showed you all what he was made of: gold. Pure, unadulterated, Honda-driving, gold. Gold with hands of diamonds. Gold with a sexy beard. Gold with a shot so precise, Jesus himself allowed a single tear of joy to stream down his cheek at the site of its beauty. Gold so brilliant, Mr. T should be wearing Kovalev around his neck.

The game against the Leafs was men against babies. And Kovalev did what any real man would do to a baby. He beat it down until it was bruised and bloodied with spirit broken. Take that, you damn dirty baby!

L'Artiste is back, and the show is just beginning.

KOSTITSYN BROTHERS BACK IN ACTION

MONTREAL - With Sergei Kostitsyn being recalled from Hamilton, the Montreal Canadiens once again have the talented siblings playing together. In honor of this, we'll try to prove that no other siblings in any other sport are better than these two.

You may have heard recently that the Busch brothers won back-to-back NASCAR races. Wow, that's amazing... It must be pretty hard is it to drive a car in a circle... How would the radio chatter sound? "Oh God! Another left turn! What do I do?!?" ***CRASH*** Pfft! Given that the Kostitsyn brothers can turn both right AND left solidifies the fact that they are better than any stupid NASCAR drivers.

In major league baseball, the Boones (Bret and Aaron) were the first set of brothers to get their tips frosted at the same time. But Andrei and Sergei were the first to rock the bald and mullet look (respectively). And only real men can pull that off.

The NBA had (of course) the Grants. Horace was pretty good, but Harvey not so much. (And this despite wearing goggles!) But both Kostityns are good, so the Grants are left in the wind.

The NFL had the Gramaticas; place kickers for their respective teams. Ha... HA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! 'Nuff said.

The NFL also had the Johnsons (Randy and Larry). But since everyone mostly wished they would just shut up, I think we can be safe that the quiet, reserved Kostitsyn brothers are just plain awesomer.

And who can forget tennis' Williams sisters (Serena and Venus)? Well, I'll tell you who: Me. Those thighs haunt my nightmares. Not to say that the Kostitsyn thighs are better to look at (since they're dudes), just that I'm not forced to stare at them.

Honorable mention goes to Ralf and Michael Schumacher. Honorable only because Michael may be the best F1 racing driver the world has ever seen and Ralf one of the worst.

So looking back at this list, I think we can all conclude that the Kostitsyn brothers are the best sibling tandem in the entire world. I can't argue it, and now neither can you.

HAIL TO BOB

MONTREAL - As posted here and, indeed all over the Sacred Internet over the past few days, it was Bob Our Savior who has single handedly changed the climate of the entire hockey world. But it was not without sacrifice.

Your humble reporter was not in a position to report on the proceedings at the time that they occurred, but I could not let it pass without at least providing some form of literary response...

It was with a last ditch effort to salvage a sinking ship that Bob The Builder invoked the ultimate resolution in his formal attache of plenipotentiary clauses, motioning for bilateral demilitarization and cessation of hostilities for the mutual advancement and prolonged commitment to the furtherance of harmonious relations among sovereign parties.

In other words: peace be with you, Carbo...

As we all know, the majesty of Bob's personal charm spreads throughout the cosmos. Legend already speaks of this great champion of pulchritude. Scribes (not only in Montreal) scrawl His praises. Bards wail His glories. Poets bleed their inkwells dry and weep them full again.

Men of sorted character silently breathe Bob's story as their passion; as warriors blow white conch on jagged rock; as paramours put flushed lip to their lovers' mouths. Men of spirit aflame, open of shirt and snug of pantaloon; rose-breasted men with swiveling hips, nimble legs and restless hearts; men whose vehemence of temperament fill their throats with melody and their footwork with rhythm. The fiery cluck of learned, genteel men as these will pique the ear with tales of this Champion... Of Bob.

Legend will forever speak of this humble man, who by mettle of His glowing personal charm alone, saved the Montreal Canadiens and indeed, the entire universe.

No pressure though, Bob... No pressure...

CARBO CARBUNCLE CURBED AT CREPUSCULE

The boom you just heard was that of the one being laid to Guy Carbonneau, ex-coach of the Montreal Canadiens, the greatest team in the world, and the one whose management provides the freshest pastries at press-conferences.

While delecting himself of a lemon chiffon danish sprinkled with sugared nutmeg, your faithful reporter was on hand to record General Manager-and now coach-Bob Gainey's address, that which basically stated that there were to be modifications made to the Montreal Canadiens, the greatest team in the world, and a stoic symbol of stability everywhere.

The changes were to be drastic.

- Why did you fire Guy, Bob?

"I didn't feel like the team was responding on an emotional level that I would deem appropriate in the process of capturing what our mandate specifically entitles us to strive for in that capacity."

- Umm...What was it specifically that you felt Guy was not doing?

"Of course, everybody, myself, Guy, everybody is well aware that in this business, that this is a team, there always comes a time when changes have to be made within that team. I'm sure that sometimes, if Guy was in my position, I would do things that he would not agree with, the same way that sometimes, I don't agree with what he would do in my position, for example, but doing what's best for the team is always something we agreed on."

- And what about what you mentioned earlier about Guy having been your best move as GM?

"Well, we have to remember that there's not just Montreal in the NHL. Other teams have problems much worse than ours but since Montreal is the veritable epicentre of Hockey Planet and its fans demand so much of our club, it's essential that we seize the opportunity to work so that we can get to the playoffs and have an impact in the series."

- Is it the players who wanted the coach out, Bob?

"Even the teams that have success have asked to play together and to do that, they have to work together. The different philosophies on the team is something that needs to be used positively, and not as a source for distractions that affect the overall stability of the club. It's not acceptable to me that other teams have double the chances to win and because of that and we needed to discuss the possibilities of change after the Atlanta game."

- You touch upon the questions, Bob, but ... What about Atlanta? What can you tell us about that?

"Again, it was a tough decision to make but I found myself in a position that required my intervention and we did that in a manner that was very difficult for both Guy and myself but what would be best overall for the club. What you have to remember is that there's almost 60 years of NHL experience between Guy and myself. It's never an easy decision to change that."

- What are your plans in regards to the next coach of the club?

"My plan at this juncture is to protect our young goalies and to work defensively so that our best players are put in a better position to contribute to the success of the club that will get this team to the playoffs and work in such a fashion that the success of the team will benefit most from that and then, we can think about taking the next step into a deeper playoff run and ideally, the Stanley Cup."

- En français maintenant, s'il-vous-plaît, Bob?

Ooh jeez... In conclusion,

Ex-coach Guy Carbonneau leaves a record of 127-86-20 (or something close) in his tenure at Bell Centre Hall. Hail the Victorious Dead. Goo'night, Guy. Godspeed. God bless.

More updates as danishes warrant.

WHEN IN DOUBT, LOOK TO THE ARTISTE

Victory.
Your Montreal Canadiens have resurged from the bottomless pit, clambered over its rim of adversity, and are now proceeding to lay the League of Extraordinary Hockey Players to waste with such furious ire and dogged determination that City officials have had no choice but to hire world-wide, highly-reknowned urban specialists to start the planification of the Holy Cup Parade in downtown Montreal. This outsourcing will cost the City 8 million dollars, a cost Mayor Tremblay casually accepts. "Hey, gotta do what you gotta do. You’d do the same if you could do what I can do."

The Beautiful Team is on a roll. The four-game winning streak they are riding is testament to the genius of Mr.Bob Gainey, general manager of the club.

Mired in inefficiency, the power-play exploded with the arrival of Granpa Schneider.

Branded as a wimp, Big George so hammered Shelley into the ice that the Vancouver Olympic Committee is seriously considering the option of incrusting Shelley in their own centre-ice logo. Said a spokesman "Worked for those Canadiens, don’t see why it couldn’t work for us."

Accused of not going to the net, every goal scored since has gone through tooth and groin.

Ridiculed for not having an experienced goaltender, the young Jaroslav began filing his teeth, so eager was he to swallow the bit he was chomping on.

But stygmatized by not winning? Alex "The Glorious Artiste" Kovalev took over the reins and showed how one drives a bloody hansom. All the man needed was a little nap. Little tired, that’s all. Mr.Bob Gainey, in all his genius, recognized this and ordered the man to take a nap. Just a little tired, take a nap and come back refreshed. Four-game winning streak.

If there is doubt, there is no doubt. Look to the Artiste.

Cheers from the objective press-box.