The Singular High:
- The Schwartz is strong in this one: Okay, fine. This will come as a shock to Beloved, but I will, occasionally, admit when I’m wrong. Swiss Pastry is playing pretty well. There, I said it. Happy? Two losses (including tonight) in his last 25 games and he seems to have cut down on his wanderlust on the rebounds. I still don’t trust him with our Big Ugly Trophy aspirations. Nothing personal Martin, but you’re…um…from away, you see, and Euros fold like a cheap suit in the playoffs, particularly if they play for us. But for now, you have my rather qualified endorsement. And don’t paint your mask. “Darth Gerber” is a pretty cool nickname. Might even make the hotties overlook that bald spot.
- If it ain't broke...: Look Coach, I know how you feel. You're the boss. You're the grande fromage, the undisputed leader of the best team in hockey. Hell, you might have the best team in history on your hands. Your team is 15-2. You Is Da Man! But...but...they've done it by themselves. How can you stand out? How can you prove what a genius you are if people think all you do is just tap guys on the back and send them over the boards? No! You must do something! Anything! Everyone must know of your brilliance! I know! Try scrambling the lines! The same lines that got you to the Finals! Yes...that's it! I'll put Eaves between Spezz and Alfie! Heater to the second line with Fish and Robitaille! The fourth line won't even see the ice! GOD, I am a master! So for three games now, you've changed things up. The result? All the chemistry of a Grade 8 mixer. Won one, barely won a second and didn't even show up for the third. Here's an idea John. How about you just, oh I don't know...LEAVE WELL ENOUGH THE FUCK ALONE?!?!? Read this. Tap your guys. Stay the hell out of the way.
- Geez, if only I were allowed to somehow physically impair my opponent: I can almost guarantee that there was more fight in the crowd than there was on the ice. How do I know this? Well, easy. By the time it was 1-0, Leaf Nation were already taunting Senators fans, unaccustomed as they are to a lead. At 2-0 they were throwing popcorn. At 3-0, Sens supporters had finally had enough with mono-syllabic grunts and bad sentence structure and were swinging for the fences. On the ice? There was six minutes left it in the third before I saw a blue sweater on his ass. 'Nuff said.
It was inevitable really. We were due for a stinker. But did it have to come tonight? Against the Leafs? Christ, we don't play them again until February 2nd. Even if the Laughs win all of 4 games between now and then, Larry Tannenbaum gets fired, JFJ is assassinated, the ACC collapses under its own hubris and the unholy union of Grapes and Darcy Fucking Tucker finally implodes due to irreconcilable differences, we'll have to listen to them. They are impervious to logic. They can't grasp just how badly their team sucks. They are incapable of independent thought. They simply empty their wallets, Pavlov like, at the sight of anything in blue and white. They are Leafs Nation. And they'll never, ever, shut the fuck up.
Up Next: I killed a man, just to watch him die:
Monday night, Habs, at the Phone Booth. I almost feel bad for them, and especially for my friends at Four Habs Fans. The last time we played them, we were coming off a loss. We beat them just to make a point. This time, we're coming off a loss. To our most hated enemy. We don't lose two in a row. As I've told them before, they're going to need a bigger boat.