I can almost smell it. Can you? A mix of sweat, blood, beer, hope, elation, terror...popcorn. And that's just my Lazy-Boy.
We're almost there kids. Two games left in the Silly Season (please no owies...please no owies), home-and-home against Les Habitants, then the winged metal tube for the long awaited chance to kick Sidney Crysby and the freshly eviscerated Penguins right in the umlauts. Oh yeah...good times.
While I'll wait to see who gets on the plane Sunday afternoon before doing up my season preview in the manner to which you both have become accustomed, I thought I'd throw out the projected regular season line combos as imagined by Don Brennan, resident purveyor of crappy rumours and general bon vivant at the Ottawa Sun. For the first time in this blog's recorded history, Mr. Brennan and your humble scribe are somewhat in agreement:
Heatley-Spezza-Winchester
Vermette-Kelly-Alfredsson
Ruutu-Fisher-Neil
Foligno-Cody Bass-McAmmond/Donovan
Vermette-Kelly-Alfredsson
Ruutu-Fisher-Neil
Foligno-Cody Bass-McAmmond/Donovan
Ladies and gentlemen, please direct your attention to the 4th line centre, highlighted here for your reading convenience. Have your credit cards ready. Operators are standing by.
3 comments:
It looks like they will stick to
Heatley-Spezza-Alfredsson
not Heatley-not Spezza- not Alfredsson (x 3)
...That's Hockey Baby.
Oh thank God. Because I just finished watching an Alanis video, and I didn't know what the hell was going on.
While the feelings are similar, Spud, hockey won't grow out its armpit hair, stop showering for 18 months and then write an angry song about your debilitating failures as a Mother Earth murdering male.
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