Ottawa Senators. Cancer Free Since--What? WHO? Aw Son Of A...

Fuck you Ray Emery. You made me break a promise. You made me break a promise and that pisses me off. Mind you, it doesn't piss me off as much as a primping primadonna whose inflated ego and delusions of grandeur threatens to derail an entire city's most fervent dream pisses me off, but close. You see, the promise I made, both to myself and Beloved was that, during this most peaceful and festive season of Christmas, I would put down my keyboard, climb down from my soapbox and leave all things Senators to sort themselves out without me. All I wanted was two weeks to just watch the games (or not), take in some WJHC goodness (or not), sleep too much, eat too much, drink too much and exchange awkward man hugs with long lost cousins. Two weeks. That's all I wanted. But no. You had to go and fuck it up for me. Well fine. If that's the way you want it, then listen up fuckstick.

We'll put aside the tattoos, the cockroach and the Tyson mask. We'll even put aside your inability to drive like an actual human being. Those were just circus side shows for the press to write about on off days. Those things had absolutely no bearing, and no effect on what went on between the boards. You played well, at times spectacularly, and we went to the Final. Everybody loved you. We even overlooked the fact that, in those five games against the Ducks, you very much choked like an asthmatic Greg Norman, but then, so did the rest of the team and all was forgiven. But not now, and not anymore. Because what you're doing now is affecting what goes on between the boards, and in the dressing room. Most important of all, you're screwing with our title shot Ray, and that cannot be tolerated.

So let me lay it out for you. You don't like being the backup? Fine. How about you don't suck? How about not giving up 10 goals on 80 shots in your last three full games? How about not pulling yourself out of game five minutes in because you suddenly felt a "twinge" in an old injury you swore up and down to your coach not seven days before was fully healed? And while we're on the subject, how about not scheduling off season surgery so late in the summer that you miss most of training camp? Oh that's right, I forgot. Superheroes such as yourself don't need training camp.

Nor do they need practice, right Ray? You throw a hissy fit yesterday after finding out you weren't the starter against the Islanders, and then today, you show up five minutes before practice is supposed to start, leaving Coach P no choice but to throw your ass off the ice as an example to everybody that no one is bigger than the team. And rightly so. If Heater had been the one to pull that bullshit, I hope he'd have been sent home too.

But, see, here's where it gets especially infuriating. Now the entire organization has to cover your ass. Instead of thinking about Ovechkin and the Caps tomorrow night, the Head Office has to put out lame excuses for you, how you're "sick" and "not feeling well enough to practice". The rest of the team is left to answer the same question from the press about "What's wrong with Ray?" and tell everyone with a microphone and a note pad, over and over again, how this is in no way a distraction.

Well, guess what Ray...you ARE a distraction. But what you may not realize is this: you are very much an expendable distraction. Consider, you're being paid $3 million a year to be a backup. Darth Gerber has been (and may God forgive me for saying this) as solid as they come this season. Jeff Glass and his 2.36GAA and 92.5 save percentage is waiting in Bingo. And finally, there are quite a few teams a hell of a lot further away from a Cup than you are right now, crying for goaltender. Do the math Ray. Do the math, and shut the fuck up. Or in the words of The Captain:

“To get considered for a start, (the coaching staff) is looking for him to show that he wants to be in there,” said Alfredsson, who said he had not seen Thursday's incident. “You have to work hard in practice to show that you want to play. That’s what most players do when they’re not playing and the goalies are no different.”

Now, I can't imagine how angry Alfie has to be to call out a teammate in public, mostly because he has never had to do it before, but I'm fairly certain that's Swedish for "the Emperor has no clothes". And remember Ray, we ran one asshole who thought he was bigger than the team out of town on a rail, so don't think we won't do the same to you.

Alexei Yashin Will Take His Ball And Go Home [Five For Smiting]