CANCEL THE PARADE; HABS LOSE IN T.O.

TORONTO - The Beautiful Team was in Toronto last night and fell to the thuggery that ensued. The Canadiens were woeful and if there is anything that this reporter knows for sure, it's that you can indeed judge a team based on one game. And the Habs are contending for the first overall pick this year for sure.

Perhaps it was too much cheese at the team bonding session in Callingwood. Perhaps the ice was bad. Or maybe the sun got in their eyes. Whatever it was, it was putrid.

Perhaps Don Cherry put it best when he said anything at all. And I for one agree.

So it's time to cancel the parade and trade away the team for cap space and draft picks. It's over, fellas. The fat lady sang and it was glorious while it lasted. Time to start cheering for a new team. Like Manchester United!

Ah... That's better... All negativity used in the first post of the season. Now on to the real games. Good luck you damn dirty Habs! Don't let us down. I will forget about this one transgression.

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.

HABS GM UNABLE TO TRADE SPACEK FOR CROSBY AND MALKIN

ATLANTA — Despite a series of phone calls to Pittsburgh Penguins GM Ray Shero on NHL trade deadline day, Habs GM Pierre Gauthier was unable to acquire the semi-talented forwards, Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin in exchange for mega-superstar Jaroslav Spacek.

"I truly don't understand Ray's position... This was a trade that could have benefited both teams," said a frustrated Gauthier to your debauched reporter disguised as a vegan hooker in the GM's limousine after the deadline had passed. Pierre confessed that he had even tried to sweeten the deal by offering forward Tom Pyatt for the "bag of pucks" that is Kris Letang.

"We would have gained sorely needed offense, while the Penguins would gain experience, lower their payroll, and give something back to their fans."

Gauthier also confirmed that that the Vancouver Canucks had pulled the plug on a potential Sedin Twins - for - Jacques Martin deal at the last second.

PREPARATION H (THE 'H' IS FOR 'HATE')

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.

UNDERCOVER MEDIA AGENT INFILTRATES HABS RANKS

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.

GABAM!

PK SUBBAN PUNCHES TOMAS PLEKANEC IN THE FACE

The last two weeks have not been kind to your Extraordinary Montreal Canadiens. Since learning that their superstar defenseman Andrei Markov would be out for the remainder of the season, unable to accommodate the Belgian authorities with the proper paperwork for the transfer of his artificial knee out of a bonded customs depot, the team was forced to heap more responsibility on their young phenom blue-liner, PK Subban. This has not met with stunning success to say the least. PK’s +/- went from +9 to -2 in that time, the defenders stopped clogging the middle, the Priceberg stopped pulling game-savers out of his ear, the scorers stopped scoring, and it all ended in tears with the rookie being sent to the press-box. It was easy to take it in stride the first few games but after half a dozen, the thought of choking down another arena hotdog while wearing a tie instead of hotdogging it on the ice was too much to bear and the young man was intent on making his case to rejoin the line-up for the game against Washington. You can imagine your ho-humming reporter’s surprise when informed as he shuffled in that PK was ruffling feathers by causing a kerfuffle during a scuffle. He had just exhibited his renowned grade-A intensity by sending a devastating right cross to Tomas Plekanec’s jaw as the centre tried to cross the blue line.
“It's practice, it's battling. It's tough." said Subban when asked to confirm. "When you're doing three-on-two drills and three-on-three, there are going to be chippy battles out there. You've just got to work through it. Give credit to Tommy for workin through my fist. It was a good practice today."
But he wasn’t done there. When Maxim Lapierre’s turn came to run the same play that Plekanec just had, he yelled across the ice for PK not to try that same crap with him, which of course, only motivated PK even more, and instead of a right cross, Lapierre found himself caught and grabbed from collar to crotch, turned upside down, and power-slammed into the ice. A melee ensued despite PK pleading it was an accident and Jack Marty giving himself an aneurysm blowing on the whistle.
"We see that all the time. When you are not playing, you've got to practice hard and make sure you are ready for the game when you are called on," said Captain Gio afterwards. "I thought it was a good practice by everybody and that stuff is going to happen when you're practicing hard. Lapierre was just mad cuz he accidentally swallowed his retainer."
Next came the power-play drills with shots from the point aimed at the slot for deflections. The indication was to keep the shot low. PK’s first shot hit Hal Gill in the face. While the 6’7” tower of power was bleeding his teeth out in the crease, Roman Hamrlik skated over to the young defender in order to give him a stern talking to, confident that his experience and prestige across the NHL would pull the young star into rank. But he was sorely mistaken and frankly shocked to see a round-house elbow coming his way. As Roman moved to dodge, he was grabbed around the waist and backward souplexed to the ice so hard that he didn’t regain consciousness for 18 minutes and realized he had bitten through his mouth-guard when he did.
"These things happen.” Mathieu Darche later said. “What's important is that we tone down the intensity against our opponents because if we play as we do against one-another, we’ll be spending the whole game in the box."
Coach Jack Marty pretty much thought the same way and decided to pull PK off for the remainder of the drill. As the kid came off, steaming with “intensity”, he pushed the coach face first into the back wall, grabbed him in a full Nelson, turned him around, and managed to smash his head at least three or four times against the sideboard ledge before Assistant Coach Kirk Muller succeeded in yanking him off.
“Completely normal.” said star Canadiens sniper Michael Cammalleri. “It’s a physical game and you have to respect the kid’s commitment to it.”
Once the practice had ended and after the complimentary knee to your devoted reporter’s sternum, PK Subban summed up his thought process concerning the passion he puts forth in order to perfect his skills.
"Like I said at the start of the year, my mentality is to come to the rink every day, try to learn, and get better. I get better by breaking heads. That’s my game. They told me ‘Don’t change your game’ so I’m not. This is me not changing my game. This is the game I always had success with. It's the same thing now. Every day, you're learning in a different way how to hurt people and you have to take it all in positively. Today was just another opportunity for me to go out there and get better and try and make the best of it and today, I think I did that. Especially if all those ambulance sirens I hear are an indication.”
-Do you think your effort today will be enough to get you into the game tonight?
“I hope so cuz next time, I’ll have to up the ante and instead of ambulances, it’ll be hearses.”
-No, what I meant was…
“Hell with this.”
*POW!*

More updates when senses return.

STALKING RYDER

SOMEWHERE IN SWITZERLAND - After several run-ins with the authorities regarding past discretions, your well-probed reporter has finally returned to good 'ol Canadian soil. Unburdened by European repression, this report could finally be logged.

As you have no doubt been reading, we at HabsBros have been chasing down former Canadiens greats to see what they are doing now that they no longer play for the most glorious of teams. We expected this to be a short task as we honestly expected most of these individuals to have taken their own lives by the ancient Japanese art of Hara-Kiri, or through a glorious Kumite. Oddly, however, they just keep being alive.

The latest in the line of players requiring an interview from yours truly was none other than Micheal Ryder. He was found languishing in anonymity in Switzerland, playing for some pee wee team call "EV Zug" (is that even a name?). This is how the interview went:

- Thank you once again for taking the time from your *snicker* busy schedule to talk to me.
"Uhm... No problem, I guess."
- Let's get this started, shall we?
"Sure."
- So, Mr. Ryder, how are you coping with not only being mercilessly fired by the Montreal Canadiens, but also, evidently, by the entire National Hockey League?
"What?! Hey, none of that question made any sense!"
- Which part? The part about you being a washed up loser, or the part about just being stupid?
"Excuse me?"
- Listen, you're the one who wasn't good enough to stick with the NHL, Mr. Ryder, that's not my fault. No need to get defensive.
"That's not even my name! Did you even do any research before you came out here?"
- You're right. I shouldn't be calling you "Mister". You don't deserve that. I mean, after 85 goals in your first three seasons, you fell out of favor pretty fast. Enjoying the night life a bit too much?
"Okay listen, you've clearly got me mixed up with Micheal Ryder. That's not who I am."
- So you're trying to forget the past? That's probably wise. I'd want to forget too.
"Look, I'm not Michael Ryder. He plays for Boston. Haven't you noticed? He plays you guys like 6 times a year!"
- HA! Oh man, that's a good one! You're mistaken, good sir. Do you really think I'd confuse you for Glen Metropolit? Sure you guys look the same, but come on!

...

- Seriously though, do you still like pancakes?
"Oh man, I can't get enough of those delicious fluffycakes... Wait! What?! No! That's not me, that's Ryder who likes pancakes, man! Stop trying to trick me!"
- Why would I try to trick you? You are who you are, and that's Micheal Ryder, former Hab, former virgin, former dude with a reason to keep on living. Why do you have to hide that?
"I'm Glen Metropolit!"
- No, he plays for Boston. And he has some diginity left. You don't.
"This interview is over!"
- Will you at least be headed back to your Newfoundland home this summer?
"Obviously, but I... Hey! NO! I'm not Ryder! Stop it!"

And with that, Ryder stormed out, back to the hills to eat some chocolate or whatever disgraced former NHL players do when they get deported to Switzerland. This columnist, however, when home and delivered the straight dope, off the record, on the QT, and very hush, hush.

More updates as the pancakes cool.

YOUNG HABS GETTING THE SHAFT?

Your Destiny-driven Montreal Canadiens are in Texas tonight to take on Mike Ribeiro and his band of chicken-fried gumbo-eating cronies. Normally, a hockey game presented nearer to Tijuana than your house to a corner-store wouldn’t receive much press, but it is in these circumstances nonetheless that both of the team’s most talented young players have been shown a red card by the club and are to sit out tonight’s game: Benny Poolio for a hit on his +/- sheet in the last three games, and PK Soobie for consistent giveaways after undeserved initial benching. The young Habs are getting the shaft. That much seems clear. Yet, your adamant reporter sought confirmation before publication and called up the Lavalife Hotline to get said young Habs’ voice-box numbers so we could exchange on the matter.
-Benny, do you think you’re getting the shaft by being relegated the way you are?
“Well, the coach sees the game the way he sees it, and I need to work harder to earn more time on the ice. I think I’ve been playing pretty good but there’s always room for improvement to be, you know, more consistent.”
-Yeah, but don’t you think you’re getting screwed though?
“No. I think that as a young player, you have to pay your dues and work hard all the time. The team wants me to succeed if they traded for me, so they’re doing what’s best for me for the future.”
-Yeah, but, don’t you think you should be playing more and that it’s total garbage that Eller is preferred over you, especially on the top line?
“Well, of course I want to play more but…”
-Ok, thanks, Benny, I knew it was garbage right from the get-go.
“Wait, I didn…”
.Beep.
-PK, do you think you’re getting the shaft by being benched tonight?
“Getting the shaft, no, I mean, a young guy coming into this league, there’s gonna be mistakes, you know? I mean, we all saw it, I have to be more careful with my passing sometimes, because a mistake like that, and next thing, it’s in the back of your net.”
-But considering every team has young players they’re breaking in, don’t you think your coach has his head up his butt for sidelining you and stifling your learning process?
“Watching the game from the press-box is part of the learning process sometimes. I think the coach, and the whole staff really, are doing their best to make me a better player every day and, like you said, it’s a process and I’m a young player, and there are gonna be mistakes sometimes.”
-Don’t you think the coaching staff should just admit to themselves as well as the whole world that they don’t have the first single solitary clue what the hell they’re doing and to just let you frikkin play?
“Well, I think that might be going a little too…”
-Yeah, I though that might be it too. Thanks, PK. Got all I need.
“But…”
.Beep.
With direct confirmation from the persons involved following Benny Poulio’s assertion that playing Eller ahead of him was total garbage and PK Soobie’s more-than-plain suggestion that the coaching staff didn’t have the first clue on how to treat him as a player, your diligent reporter (pictured right) could now present his article confident in the knowledge that the truth mirrored his opinion and wasn’t the product of other influences apart utmost objectivity.
The Young Habs are getting the shaft and it’s just a matter of time before…
.Beep-beep.
-Hallo!
“Straight-dope Factory?”
-Speaking.
“Jack Marty here. Two kids just called me, peein in their pants. What are you doing over there?”
-Doing my JOB, Jack; hell you think I’m doing?
“I think you might be getting ahead of yourself and maybe you don’t want to post what you’re thinking of posting.”
-I think maybe I do, Jack.
“Maybe we can work something out.”
-Yeah? How?
“I’ll put’em back on the ice. Red card revoked. They’ll play tonight.”
-You serious?
“You knows it, baby.”
-Ok. Hey, that’s great.
“Done. Ciao.”
.Beep.
Ok…uhh.., well now, this just goes to show how great a team like the Grandiose Montreal Canadiens can adapt to situations on the fly, dear reader. They see a problem, in this instance, me and my big mouth, and they head it off at the pass. Foresight. Initiative. Focus. Execution. Playing the young guns is certainly proof of their brilliance in all those aspects. Sitting out Benny Poolio isn’t a garbage move because they didn’t do it, and the coaching staff DOES know what it’s doing because PK Soobie ISN’T sitting. It just works out so nicely once again. The organization understands that the young Montreal Canadiens are the veteran Montreal Canadiens of the future and they need to be given the confidence to go with their responsibilities despite the occasional mistakes they may make. In fact, no other team in the history of the world understands this as perfectly as the Masterful Montreal Canadiens do, and I can assure you that THIS time, it’s objectively-speaking.

More updates as events warrant.

GOMEZ LIVING UP TO CONTRACT; ON PACE FOR 113 PTS

Double Stanley Cup-winning living legend Scott Gomez has been on a torrid point-getting streak for the last two games, registering 4 points and as many assists. One cannot help but observe that if he performs as well for the next 50 games, the speedy forward will finish the season with 113 pts, cracking the team’s single season 100-pt mark for the first time since the 1985-1986 season when the Little Viking led your Awe-Inspiring Montreal Canadiens down St-Catherine Street with the most sacred of chalices in one hand and a Kroppkaker in the other, boasting a 110-pt output during the regular season. Your security-dodging reporter made it a point to collect some of the Alaskan’s team-mates’ thoughts on the matter after last night’s convincing victory over their closest rivals in the North-East Division.
“Well, he’s just leaving it all out there, you know?” said his long-time friend and el capitan of the club Brian Gionta. “We went out to grab some dinner at a Chinese all-you-can-eat buffet last week and at some point during the evening, he just kinda got this look come over his face; I don’t know what happened, but the next morning, he was all fire and brimstone and he just kinda brought it to another level since, you know? Can’t explain it; sometimes it’s better not to look for a reason and just go with it.”
“A lot of the game is the mental aspect part of it; that's what a lot of guys say in this league.” suggested Tomas Plekanec, not a bad centre in his own right. “I think it has to do with Gomie taking some time to visualize the game and the type of contribution he intends to bring to it. I know for my part that he always takes 15 minutes in the bathroom by himself to think about that before he suits up. It looks like it’s paying off.”
“I think it’s a question of chemistry, really;” offered top sniper Michael Cammalleri. “Scott and I, we looked at how to combine our skills when we were paired together; we tried different experiments; we proposed some ideas and some theories to get some sort of reaction and though some of the results were interesting, there was nothing conclusive. And we ultimately had no choice but to accept the overall findings despite the resistance some of our personal feelings were generating at the time. It wasn’t working, that much was plain, and though I hate to admit it, I might’ve been bringing him down a bit and I guess I needed to see that. But right now, it’s just great to see that a player like that is on pace to break a great record like Mats Naslund’s because that’ll surely help the team; that’s just amazing.”
“There’s a reason the New York Rangers gave a contract like that to Scott Gomez.” Coach Jack Marty said afterwards. “He’s a leader. He’s a veteran. He understands the game and what a team needs to do to win. And if you look at last spring, he was definitely a part of our success in the playoffs. I think the problem was him wanting to do too much for his team-mates and he stopped skating so they could catch up to him. We had to remind him that his speed was his most devastating weapon and it was hard to generate if he wasn’t skating. So seeing him now on pace for 113 pts, that doesn’t surprise me or the organization one bit. He has the skill, the speed, and the vision to be a dominating force in this league and as we can see, that’s definitely happening right now. For us, the acquisition of Scott Gomez is a feather in the cap of the team because he’s been worth every penny. We are thrilled with his production and as his numbers over the course of the last two games show, had no doubt that he would step up to show that he is the best player on the team by a country mile. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go help the boss write some checks.”
There you have it, dear readers, the straight dope, straight from the horse-hockey’s mouth: Gomez worth every penny; on pace for 113 pts. Insert into hat and wear.
More updates when events warrant.

HABS RUNNING OUT OF OPPOSITION

The question facing the greatest team in the history of the world at the start of the 2010-2011 NHL season was whether last year’s success was the result of coordinating lucky breaks and ephemeral flashes of brilliance or if they were really that good. Now towering over the North-East Division like the lords of all creation, the answer seems unimportant, because the REAL question is: who can stop them? Who can face them and survive the humiliation? Who is left that dares to stand against your Invincible Montreal Canadiens? Is this it? Is this the best this League has to offer? Well, it’s nice, but…where’s the beef? Because from where we're standing, it looks like the Habs have run out of opposition.
The proclaimed “best team in the East”, the Cappers have YET to show themselves, still applying cream to their red faces after being smacked around last time they played the bleu-blanc-rouge. The Detroit City Wings have grudgingly accepted to host the Beautiful Team next month but only if they’re spotted a two-goal lead. The Blackhawkers? Stanley Cup champs? Cowering in the West, they steadfastly refuse to accept the challenge. It was only after threat of relocation from the League’s commissioner at the last second that a game between both clubs was squeezed into the final week of the regular season. Some “champs”, pff. Where’s the beef?
Pittsburgher, Couver, Beantown, Philly, and Los Angleeze however, have all been ground into chicken fodder and spread on a sandwich. They folded easier than a ten-dollar bill jammed in a pole-dancer's panties. They were run through like a LAW rocket shot at some jell-o and swatted aside as if they weren't even there. Pathetic. Honestly, where’s the beef?
Now, complacency threatens to rear its ugly head if the club becomes devoid of worthwhile opposition. Montreal scouts have been sent far and wide to unearth a team, any team, who can go three 20-minute rounds against the Tricolore but the first reports sent back indicate this may have been an entreprise easier envisioned than accomplished. It will be up to the team to play through the adversity generated by the level of skill the weaklings they play against have to offer and still maintain their own superior level of play regardless, because it looks very likely that with no one left to stop them, they may very well run the table, and what kind of fun is that? Someone should be watching the store, no? Where’s the BEEF?
Where is the pride in this League? Where’s the sense of Duty? Is everyone going to just stand there and let your Commanding Montreal Canadiens just lay down the law like an 8-year-old in a kindergarten class? Who can stop them? The 1972 Soviets? The United States Army? Mike Ditka?
Everyone likes to win, sure, but how about making it a little interesting?
Where’s the BEEF, dammit?!! More updates when irrelevant rants warrant.

HABS FANS TAKING THINGS WAY TOO SERIOUSLY

BROSSARD - During a post-practice interview yesterday at the Canadiens' facility in Brossard Quebec, team captain Brian Gionta said (off the record) that fans of the team are "taking this whole hockey thing way too seriously."

This reporter was surprised to hear such a bold statement from such a prominent and important figure on this, the Greatest Team in the History of the World. In search of more, your eager journalist asked Gionta for an opinion on an article posted on this site regarding Lars Eller.

After several minutes and through helping the Captain with a few words (as is always required with one of Ericson's submissions), a laugh was shared and "cold ones" were cracked.

"Look," started Gionta, "the fans have their opinions and even go so far as picking and choosing which of the players should play together, and then try to match them up against opponents so that they are at a disadvantage. Apparently, they really get into that.

"I mean, whatever happened to going out there and having a little bit of fun on the ice? Fans of this team are tight-asses, I tell you. Wasn't like this in Jersey..."

Such a candid conversation with such a great individual left this blogger with the reaffirmation that the traditionally "offensive" material on this site is due both to something called "free speech" and to "really not giving a shit."

LARS ELLER MAKING A SPLASH

Your Majestic Montreal Canadiens are dominating the North-East Division, sending their opposition into panic-stricken, closed-door, war-room conferences in an effort to determine how in Lord Jebus’ holy name to counter such supreme awesomeness and from what spring of superior hockeyness doth it emanate. Obviously, those efforts have failed, for your Royal Montreal Canadiens are still right where they should be, at el numero uno, but the reason those efforts have failed is because everyone is looking everywhere except where they should, that is, at the sneaky Dane, Lars Eller, the fantastic return on the Jaroslav Halak trade to St. Louie.
Such was the spiel your impressionable reporter gobbled with glee when he had occasion to meet the team’s head coach at the home-based daycare operators strike taking place in Sainte-Julie. Proudly hoisting a placard with the words “We want more money for takin care’o’kids all day long! We’re sick’o’the kids!”, Jack Marty agreed to share his thoughts.
“I’m sick of the kids!”
-Can we talk hockey, coach?
“Hit me.”
-Is the team contemplating sending Lars Eller down to Hamilton?
“What? Why would we do that? He’s doing such a great job. A good player who’s helping the club. Making a big splash with us.”
-Cannonball or poop dropping in toilet splash?
“Cannonball.”
-So do you consider to have gotten good trade value in the…
“Yes, I do. We are still surprised that St. Louie would part with him.”
-Are you surprised then that he’s not producing?
“He IS producing. It’s just the League hasn’t properly looked at the tape where he touches the puck a little before we score but it’s quick and you can hardly see it. We’ve actually sent a letter to the home office about it and we’re still waiting for a response so I can’t really say more about it until that’s settled with the League, so don’t ask me anymore questions about that, please.”
-Why is he only playing 5 minutes a game? Don’t you think he would develop better if he saw more time on ice and began to gain experience, good or bad, against this calibre of play?
“Well, we can’t play him more because if we did, the games would end much too lopsidedly and we don’t want to embarrass the other clubs or have the games degenerate into brawls because that’s what would happen. We’re biding our time over here. The kid is so good, he would paint a target on his back and we feel it’s too early in the season for that. He’s doing just enough now that we win, yet he remains in the shadows, so to speak, so that when it’s all on the line, we then can take the leash off of Lars Eller for real and let him go at it. He’s our ace up our sleeve…
-And nobody knows it! , your blurting reporter realized.
Jack Marty nodded his head solemnly, then put a finger on his the tip of his nose.
“Nobody. Has. A clue.”
-Nobody sees it!
“Nobody even THINKS about it.”
-Nobody CONSIDERS it.
“How can they if it’s so well hidden?
-That is a. Mazing!
“All part of the plan.”
-You sneaky bastards!
"It's what we do."
-So Eller is great?
“Eller is friggin fantastic.”
-And he’s the reason we’re winning?
“Well, we’re winning, aren’t we?”
-And Lars will take a prominent role some day?
“He’s gonna hog the limelight like a pig on Broadway. Just you watch.”
-And St. Louie…
“Will be crying in their soup like bitches. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m here to support these wonderful ladies. See you later.”
Your inspired reporter couldn’t help but laugh heartily because today was a beautiful day and your All-Singing, All-Dancing Montreal Canadiens had it aaaaaall worked out. Every angle, every perspective, every direction, all foreseen and all accounted for; even the wild card, a fabulously talented Dane dissimulated under the guise of an utterly useless shlub in order to escape the opposition’s gaze. But soon, they will all tremble at his might and once again be forced to give reverence to the greatest team in the history of the world for their wisdom as well as their powerhouse performers.

More updates when vindication warrants.