SERGEI ON THE PROWL

LONDON - It is perhaps the worst-kept secret on the Canadiens roster, but our man Sergei Kostitsyn is not a man at all, but rather, a boy. A boy in need of maturing. And who better to mature a young boy then yours truly?

That may have come out wrong.

As a carded member of the male sex, this journalist has frequently been granted access to female units. Being gifted in the art of song, dance, and swollen pantaloons, that ingress has always been easily lubricated. And it is with that admittance that this "playa" will help that poor boy.

Your humble libertine caught up with Sergei this morning and let him know that he was to have a date with an acquaintance of the opposite sex this evening after practice.

It was an excited Sergei that came back into the dressing room this afternoon. Too excited, thought your philandering reporter. Action needed to be taken.

- Sergei, you're a bit wired. You need to settle down, buddy.

- But I excited. I like gurls. They soft.

- Sergei, I'm worried this won't turn out very well for you. Let's work something out together to calm you down, okay?

- Will they be boobs?

- I may have not thought this out as well as I should have. Okay. Listen. Your date is at 7:00pm. What do you plan to do before then to get ready?

- I try to remember where I left lucky socks?

- That's good! Excellent! What else?

- I blog about being nervous and Tweet what I do?

- Well, I suppose if that helps, but I-

- I choose baby names! Yes?

- Okay, I don't think-

- I take off pants and sacrifice small puppy and eat organs with raw fish sticks and jelly bean while listening to Micheal Buble and chanting 'dontscrewthisup' over and over until Oprah comes on, yes?

- What? I-

- Yes! I have it! I go practice with "pro"!

- Sergei, I... Sergei? Hey! Where are you go... Well, this'll go well...

More updates as bail gets posted

YANKEES LOSE, BUY HABS

NEW YORK - It is well known that two of the most storied franchises in all of sports are the New York Yankees and the Montreal Canadiens. But with the Yankees off to a slow start, owner George Steinbrenner has opted to buy your surging Montreal Canadiens.

In 1993, the Beautiful Team won its 24th Stanley Cup. A parade was heald, cars were rolled over, and things were set on fire. It was glorious. But that has not happened for some time.

Your studious reporter has determined through flawless logic and chatting with reliable sources at local pubs that with the Beautiful Team surging towards immanent victory this season, Mr. Steinbrenner will be purchasing the team.

The worry is that he will make them play baseball. And we all know how well baseball did in Montreal...

After digging a little deeper, your intrepid journalist determined that someone in New York has already acquired the rights to every player on the Canadiens roster, including Jaroslav Halak, Tomas Plecanec, Mike Cammalleri, and even the unborn child of a scientific experiment between Andrei Markov and Carey Price.

When asked if Steinbrenner had gone too far, Yankees fans responded: "What the fuck is 'hockey'? What kind of a name is 'Halak' anyways? ... Wait, is he a Yankee now? Holy shit, he's the fucking best player I've ever fucking seen!"

Steinbrenner also bought a few other teams, most notably the entire NBA.

More updates as further "beverages" are served.

LAZY REPORTER PHONING IT IN

CABO SAN LUCAS, MX — In an effort to avoid exertion of his fingers, mental activity, and even standing up, your slothful reporter told other Habs Bros correspondents that he would prefer to cover the Glorious Team over the phone.

"I'd really like to turn on the TV, watch the games, and write about them, but I just can't justify waking up and finding the remote," said your totally justified bestest friend (me).

"Anyway, maybe when I get back I'll write a whole bunch of blistering articles. I'm not sure how long it will take me, but I just wrote this email in about 50 minutes, so you can just multiply that by say 20, I guess."

More updates as weeks pass.

UPDATE: Your victimized reporter has been told to get in or get out.

More updates very, very soon.

PLANNING THE RIOT ROUTE

Your spectacular Montreal Canadiens have kicked down the door of adversity yet again and are furiously pillaging the spoils of an unsuspecting lot of playoff hopefuls. Kicked out of the infirmary for repeated pillow-fights, Tricolore players were forced to reassume a roster position. This, curiously, has led to the icing of a more dangerous team and, oddly, amounting victories as a result. Now, only a cataclysmic disaster of biblical proportions could hope to slow down The Beautiful Team at this point as they stage, once again, a glorious late season rush to secure a spot in the Stanley Cup playoffs. Let no once accuse the Sainte-Flannelle of lacking a flair for the dramatic. … Or they will be shot.
Having thereby established the utter dominance of the Habs’ position in the balance of gods and men, it stands to reason that the Cup is once again set to return home, give its mom a hug and maybe see if it can still fit in its baby cradle. We therefore decided how wonderful it would be if we went down to the streets and talked to the people about how they planned to fete this imminent occasion. Real people. Off the cuff.
We met with Philippe. 18-years-old. Laval resident.
“I will be very appy. I like Canadien a lot. I ope I see de Cup in de street on de day, you know? But when we de Cup, on de night, me and my friends will go in de downtown, you know? And trow garbage can in windows. We are so excite, you know?”
We talked to Dee-Zee Tran. 23-years-old. Did not disclose residence.
“I love when the Canadians win. Place goes nuts. Rich folks get scared, call the cops, and tell’em to form barricades around their stuff. The rest is up for grabs, man! Go Habs go!”
We had a chat with Reginald Crombie. Did not disclose age. Did not disclose residence.
“It was so pretty in 1993, you should’ve seen it. So pretty. I had my bottle of tequila with me and I was a little drunk. Got into a fight with some cop, don’t remember why. Managed to get away from’m but he ripped my shirt. Had to take it off. So there I was with a ripped shirt, a bottle of tequila, and my lighter. It kind of all just came together, you know? Guy left his sun-roof open and just parked all alone. Begging for it. That was my first cocktail, and I knew I was in love. I’m really excited; we have a really good team.”
Finally, we spoke to a man who did not disclose his name, his age or his residence.
“The more pigs we got on the street watchin those fools suits us just ****in fine. Got some ****in business to take care of and it ain’t gonna be pretty. The best part is that we burn everything down and nobody knows it wasn’t those jackasses who done it. Straight-up snatch’n’grab with a score to settle thrown in. Don’t need bullets; baseball bats will do, light a match, get the **** out. ****in pigs none the wiser. That’s why the Canadiens are the best team in the world; you couldn’t get away with this **** anywhere else. Go Habs go, man.”
Aaah, Montreal. Can she get more elegant?
Real people. Real issues. Live, from the streets, Habsbros brings you the straight dope.
More of it as events warrant.

EMOTIONAL TWO WEEKS GIVES WAY TO PASSIONATE RETURN TO ARMS

Now that all this Olympic hoopla is over and done with, we can get back to the business of talking about the hockey that really matters: Montreal Canadien hockey. One may travel the world and never find a notion as beautiful as the Beautiful Team’s notion, that of stylish elegance delivered as bone-crushing NHL hockey superiority, so, it was only in the spirit of utter patronization that your cagey reporter brought up the subject of its Olympic farce of a counterpart to our returning Gamers.
- How’d it go, Tommy?
“Well, I think I got screwed. Nobody told me we would be speaking in Czech. I might’ve been born there, but I’ve been working my way to the NHL since I was six and I haven’t had time to keep up with the language as much as I should have. I couldn’t understand what the hell was going on or what I was expected to do. Coach didn’t seem too happy but all I could do was shrug my shoulders at him, you know?”
- Marky, what happened?
“We not play with passion. We not play desperate. You see what happened. We get slapped around like clown at slap party. You see who I play with? I want to pass the puck to team-mate and I look and I say ‘Who are you?’ and he says ‘I am Korneyev; I play with CKSA.’ and I say ‘Who?’ And it all goes downhill from there.”
-Jaro, not bad. Not bad at all. Whaddaya say?
“We are satisfied in the way we played. It would have been nice to bring back a medal. The team was working really hard and got a 3-1 lead and…I started thinking of the controversy that was waiting for me back in Montreal and I kind of lost my concentration in the end.”
So there you have it, Hab-following, Flannel-loving, genuflecting Partisans, straight from the horses mouths, your Olympic recap. Now, we move on to Tuesday night’s tilt versus our infamous rivals, the Bos…
“Hey! What about me?”
-Sergei. Little buddy; how you doin?
“You not talk to me of Olympic experience.”
-You went to the Olympics? Snowboard freestyle? We know you like the pipe. Heh, little joke there, Sergei. But seriously, skelton?
-No, hockey. I finish with most points on my team. I am one of overall leaders in all of tournament!”
-Get outta here! Which nation?”
“Belarus!”
-…oh. Well, I mean,.. Sergei, c’mon. Don’t waste my time here; I’m doing this report, ok?
“Pah! Drobonovskyet!”
With your sensitive reporter understanding that last comment as a plea to pursue his preview, he did so directly: The Boston Bruins await the greatest team in the history of the world at TD Garden tomorrow night and since their national pride has just been crushed to smithereens, they seem ripe for the picking. Not that they ever needed a reason to wilt; they’ve been doing it for nigh on 80 years without fail but it’s good to find different reasons why the Habs must shove the Beaners noses in it every time regardless. Shove it good. Faster, higher, stronger; shove it good.

More updates as events warrant.

GAINEY: THE TRUTH

MONTREAL - Avid readers of HabsBros may have noticed that your intrepid reporter has not posted an article in some time. Well my friends, this is merely because the depths at which this under cover report has come from has required a level of commitment that is unprecedented in this field.

Several weeks ago, your humble correspondent decided it was time to find out just what it was that Mr. Bob Gainey (then GM of YOUR Montreal Canadiens) does (or does not) do on a daily basis. The best way to achieve this goal was to be disguised within his office.

Here are some excerpts of conversations overheard by your abase journalist during his mission:

Bob: Janice, would you be so kind to get me some coffee?
Janice: Sure. Hey, did you get a new chair?
Bob: Hmm... Looks like it. Kind of ugly, isn't it?
Janice: Sure is. Never seen one with a hat before. Anyways, I'll get you that coffee. Also, there's a message from Sutter in Calgary on your phone.
*BEEP*
Sutter: Bob, Darryl here. Listen, I'm looking to offload Phaneauf and I know you've been having some troubles on 'D' this year. Call me, I think we can make a deal.

Well, as we all know, Phaneauf did not come to Montreal. Bob went out for some chili - oh God, the chili - and debated the consequences of having a dominant defenceman on his squad. By the time he decided to think about making a decision, well Brian Burke had already stepped in.

Bob: Janice, would you be so kind as to get me some Pepto? I have some serious gas today.
Janice: Sure. Hey, why does your chair keep gagging?
Bob: Not sure.
Janice: Isn't that annoying?
Bob: A bit, but I like the way it cups me, you know?
Janice: Okay, well anyways, there's another message from Sutter.
*BEEP*
Sutter: Bob, Darryl here. Listen, sorry about that Phaneauf thing. I waited for like a week, so I just figured... Anyways, Jokinen is available too. I know you've had issues with scoring this year and God forbid Cammalleri gets hurt, so if you want him, I'd be willing to take just about anything. Give me a call... I miss you.

Well, again another deal didn't happen. Bob went for some onion soup and refried beans and debated the consequences of having consistent secondary scoring on his roster. By the time he decided to consider looking into making a decision about having a thought towards the situation concerning making a decision, well Glen Sather had already completed a transaction.

Bob: Janice, would you be so kind as to get me some Bean-o?
Janice: Sure. Hey, did your chair just throw up?
Bob: Yeah, it seems to do that whenever I... Well those beans from yesterday...
Janice: That's kind of gross, you know.
Bob: Yeah, but my afternoon porn sessions wouldn't be the same without this chair.
Janice: Okay... Well anyways, there's a message from Waddell on your phone.
*BEEP*
Waddell: Bob, Don here. A long time ago, one of your predecessors tried to get Kovalchuk from me during the draft. I rejected that, but now I have to get rid of him and I wonder if you still have interest. I need to dump salary and draft picks don't help me. So basically, I'm looking to take anything you can offer. A good night out like old times might even be enough. Give me a call, would you?

This was the first time I saw genuine interest from Gainey. His balls were positively sweaty! God I wish he wore pants...

Gainey went for some Panago Pizza and contemplated the consequences of having a bonified 50-goal scorer in the line-up. Could the Canadiens win? Would anyone's feelings get hurt? What if he wanted to wear #23? Does he look good in red? Will he be able to adapt to driving in Montreal? Can he tie a slip knot?

Long story short, another missed deal.

Bob: Janice, where are you?
...
Bob: Janice?
...
*BEEP*
Molson: Bob. Go home. Get out. Don't come back.

More updates when the chaffing stops.

GAINEY BLOWS SUPERBOWL CALL; LAST STRAW FOR MOLSON

When Tracy Porter intercepted Peyton Manning’s pass and ran it back to the house, it spelled the end of Mr. Bob Gainey’s tenure with the greatest hockey team in the history of the world. Geoff Molson had offered his GM the opportunity to make the Superbowl call in his place in a bet opposing the Montreal owner to George Gillett, chuckling heartily in Vail. Bob Gainey chose the Colts. Having to shave his head in defeat to now be prancing about with a skull-cap and a wig, the humiliated brewer had seen enough, and strongly suggested the GM take the door. Still fuming over how silly he looks in beaver hair, Mr. Molson could not attend the press conference announcing the news. President Boivin took the reins.
“It’s been an honour to have Mr. Bob Gainey here with the Montreal Canadiens. It’s been a privilege to consider him as a friend all this time. He brought us instant class and respectability when he joined our organization. All we could ask more of him was that he be a Saint. Unfortunately, it was the only thing he was unable to do and it is with great regret that we all came to the conclusion that he should step down as of consequence.”
-Mr. Boivin, is it really important that Mr. Gainey be able to call the winner in the American football championship?
“You bet it's important," the team president said. “It's a matter of respect and sensitivity to the reality of frenchies; I mean, the logo is right there on the helmet, ferpetessakes! Far as we were concerned, it was an easy call and he blew it.”
Pierre Gauthier, erstwhile second fiddle, takes the maestro stick and strikes up the Bleu-Blanc-Brass Bonanza. He wasted no time in making friends.
“It's an honour for me to become general manager of the Canadiens," Pierre Gauthier said. "But this day is not about me, it's about the Montreal Canadiens and the future of the Franchise. Our goal is the same as it always was: to prop up the Priceberg.”

Pierre Boivin then coughed and nudged Gauthier in the ribs.
“Uhh, errr, we have two strong young goaltenders who give us a chance to win every night," the new GM amended. "We believe we can go forward with them, and they give us our best chance to get into the playoffs, and if Halak ever decides to drop the ball...” Gauthier then reacted sharply as one would when kicked in the shin underneath the table.
When asked if the Canadiens would be buyers or sellers come trade deadline, the response was less about the fluff and more about the marble.
“We’re builders. We have 11 new players from nine different organizations, and I think we only have four frenchies,” Gauthier said. “Getting the team to where we want it to be is part of an ongoing process. That means we have to move ahead directly with our plans to achieve success, namely, to sign Tomas Plekanec as quickly as possible and to foresee the Saints as winners of the next Superbowl, both of which we are prepared to do at this juncture. And the frenchies? Whoa, baby, watch the frenchies is all I gotta say. That’s how you build a winner, chéri.”

As if to prove the point, Gauthier's first move was to send White and Trotter back to Hamilton and keep Desharnais as lone hanger-on with the club.

We're in business now.
More updates who dat warrant.