Swiss Pastry’s (no more Darth Gerber for you) three weak, weak goals were met with a series of shrugs. I actually giggled a bit at Briere’s winner, mostly because he looked like a giant bobblehead to my drug addled eyes. No really, an actual bobblehead. In pink, no less. So this got me thinking a little bit. Well, it got me thinking Sunday morning. Saturday night, I was too distracted by Jim Hughson’s repeated attempts during the late game to eat the giant marshmallow that had suddenly replaced his headset.So Sunday I thought to myself that we, as Sens fans, should embrace this slump. And let’s not gild any lilies; it is a full-blown slump. Why? Let us count the ways:
· It’s November, not March: Historically, the Senators play their best hockey after Christmas (and I’ll pre-empt the witless wags here and say “until the second week of May”). So, we get the shitting-our-pants phase out of the way early, and we’re home free for the rest of the year.
· A bad Sens game, makes a great drinking game!: The rules are simple. You divide the number of players on the ice between the participants. You then drink every time one of “your” players fucks up. For each nervous pass fanned in the offensive zone, one shot. Defensive zone? Two shots. A fanned shot gets 2 drinks and a drop pass resulting in an odd man rush the other way (a.k.a.: The Spezza Surprise), means the owner of that player picks another participant, who then has to drink three shots. Did I mention I was alone Saturday? My dog really didn’t like this rule very much.
· I’ll put $10 on Rayzor: Office pools, Super Bowl style, on which of
So there you are, fellow Legionnaires. Enjoy it. Have fun with it. And always remember, things could be worse. We could be Leaf fans.
At Least We're Not The Leafs [Four Habs Fans]
p.s.: The picture is from a site called Subversive Cross Stitch. Seriously. As stitching is one of Beloved's many many creative talents, I include it here for her benefit. And I totally want "Don't Make Me Cut You" for my cubicle wall.