From: The Office of The Ever Righteous Earl of Kanata, Duke of Barbados, His Most Excellent Rich Guy, And All Around Swell Dude, Give It Up For Emperor Eugene.
To: Members, newcomers and general sycophantic hangers-on of the Ottawa Senators Admiration Society of Honourable Gentlepersons.
My Dearest Subjects: Please be advised that the last odiferous stench remaining from the Teflonian Reign of Error has now been eradicated from the general area surrounding
Join me in grand celebration of reclaiming that which is rightfully ours, by hoisting one of my $11 beers, won't you?
- Who was that masked man? No, really. Where the hell did he come from?: Lord Gerber, I have no idea what’s in the Kool-Aid The Bryan has been feeding you, but you just keep right on drinking it. This was as sound and solid a positional game as I’ve seen from you, or any goaltender this season. Please, I beg of you, oh Dark One, watch the tape of this game as often as you can between now and the 6th of April. Now, normally, I try to avoid blowing smoke up anybody’s ass. But as it appears that this is precisely the way to get you to actually play the game properly (plus the fact that the alternative is just too frightening to contemplate) please consider my air compressor and I at your immediate and permanent disposal.
- ♫You take the high road, I’ll take the low, and I’ll be at the end boards, BEFOOOORE ye!♫: THE mantra The
has been preaching since his glorious return has been the K.I.S.S. principle. Keep It Simple Stupid. No more idiotic cross-ice passes when entering the zone, no more dipsy, and certainly, no more doodle. The equation is really quite…er…simple: Chip. Chase. Crash. Get Puck. Score. So, Mr. Komisarek, would you agree that this seems to be working rather well? Bryan
- NONE shall pass! And I don’t care if you CAN answer me these questions three: The defensive flip side to that coin, of course, is to keep your opponent as far away from your own net as possible. On the few occasions where a red sweater did try to venture into that sacred territory, he was quickly reminded that our D have since rediscovered their spines and was quickly dispatched to the ice surface, there to flail helplessly while trying to soothe a suddenly very tender tailbone. After a rather long absence, it was nice to see again.
- How’s that back Alfie? I can refer you to a rather good masseuse. Sincerely, Client 9: Please don’t get me wrong Daniel. Seeing you in the line up last night did all of our hearts a world of good. But…um…how to put this…might it be possible that you rushed it a bit? Just askin’. You see, it looked to these thoroughly untrained eyes as if you were labouring a tad. But hey, that could just be the effect of missing five games, right? Sure. No problem. But bear in mind that we need you to be absolutely superhuman in 24 days or so. Coming back too soon for a regular season game, no matter how important it may be, thus risking an aggravation of a lingering injury…well that’s just dumb.
- That’s it. That’s all I’ve got.
We’re back. Allow me to state for the public record, we are fully and completely restored to full operational capability. There’s still an extremely tough 10 games remaining, and we certainly won’t win them all. And because we spent such a long time in the crapper, we may not win the Conference, or even the Division. But I’m okay with that. Why? Easy. “Play to your potential”. It’s all we fans have wanted to see since Christmas and it was Teflon’s failure to persuade, cajole and threaten the team into doing that that got him fired. But now it’s different. If The Bryan can use these last ten games to get the boys playing anywhere near the level they’re capable of playing (and it appears he will), we are truly the Beasts of the East, and it won’t matter who has home ice, or where we play. And the rest of the conference knows that.
A Sunday matinee, spent amongst the magnolias, antebellum plantations and empty seats of Raleigh-Durham as we take on the Hartolina Whaleicanes. Uh-Oh Corvo gets his (presumably) long awaited chance to prove to us that shipping his sorry ass out of town on a freight train was the wrong thing to do (um…the smart money says he won’t) and Beloved gets her hubby (that’s me) back for a rare Saturday night of canoodling on the couch rather than hearing me scream at the television from down the hall. We’re still watching Cops though…
Behind Enemy Lines:
Please drop in on Carolina On Ice for all our your tropical depression needs. WufPirate does indeed seem like a nice enough fellow, although his rather irrational enthusiasm surrounding the Corvo trade does make me worry for his sanity a bit.