Sens 3, Thrashers 2: I'm Feeling SO...Um...Very... What's The Opposite Of Shame?

Two wins in a row for the first time in six weeks! And better yet, two solid efforts in a row in...oh...thirteen months?

Unfortunately as my Live Bloggy duties/witticisms (HAR!) kept me from taking my usual copious notes, or even paying enough attention to what was going on on the ice (and also because I'm in a hurry) I'm pulling it all out of my ass* and rockin' the Creamy Middle Simpsons style. Go!

• And I, for one, welcome our new goaltending overlord. I'd like to remind him that as a trusted member of the OBC, I can be helpful in rounding up Leaf fans to toil in his underground gummy caves.

• Because sometimes the only way you can feel good about yourself is by making someone else look bad. And I'm tired of making other people feel good about themselves!

• Can't sleep. Clown will eat me.

• Please, old people don't need companionship. They need to be isolated and studied so it can be determined what nutrients they have that might be extracted for our personal use.

• Dear Baby: Welcome to Dumpsville. Population: You

*It's a figure of speech! C'mon. Fat, drunk and stupid is no way to go through life, son!**
**Bonus reference, just because I'm in that good a mood.

Up Next:

Oh crap. Here's where we find out if the new found commitment to, you know, playing actual hockey is for real. Saturday night, HNIC, the Habs. They're like the Bruins, only less hurty. (7:00pm, Cee-Bee-Cee)

Behind Enemy Lines:

Where else?

Sens Live Blog And Group Hug -- Now With 70% More Profanity!

As I mentioned last night, I have absolutely zero confidence the boys can repeat their dominating performance against the Canes. If the pattern we've seen since October holds true to form Sens fans, we're in for a dozen or so games of craptacular suckitude.

But is that going to stop the OBC from putting their perfect Live Blog record on the line? Oh Hells NO!

So join us, won't you? The gates open at 7:15pm, puck drop at 7:30pm (TSN with the coverage in all of its Pierre McGuire screaminess).

The usual suspects will be there along with (we hope) some specially invited guests. If all else fails, as I suspect it will...in spectacular fashion, we can always amuse ourselves by composing dirty limericks about Carrie Underwood.

Thrashers 4, Sens 1: Time To Blow It The Fuck Up

What happens when the fourth best PK lets the worst power play in the League beat you for two goals? What happens when your three best players, including the guy wearing the "C" and holding the express pass to the rafters can't seem to give a shit and are your biggest defensive liability? What happens when you can't beat a bottom feeding franchise that shouldn't even exist? What happens when a certain blogger has totally given up hope of anything good happening this season? You curse, you drink a lot, punch a few nuns, accept the inevitable and hang out the "For Sale" sign, that's what. Come back tomorrow for the fire sale. And believe me, everything must go.

There ain't no 2007-esque Miracle Turnaround coming for this team. Not this year. Blow it up Bryan.

Fuck, I hate this game.

In Other News...Thrashers And Talons And Live Blogs, Oh My!

Yes. Well. With that wee bit of messy unpleasantness safely behind us (drunken midnight rantin' can be very cathartic, if a little hard on the laptop...personally, I blame Lloyd Robertson), we turn our attention to the next cellar dweller to kick our asses...the Atlanta Thrashers (Tomorrow, 7:00pm, on TSN in all of McGuire's screamy goodness).

The last time my rather well cushioned posterior (I prefer "Rubenesque", thank you very much) came into contact with an SBP seat, Atlanta was in town. As my reward for miraculously making it through yet another 365 days without a cardiac event of any kind, my Dad snagged us a couple of 100 level seats for my birthday. Ten rows up, just off one of the corners, they were sweet indeed.

And that night, so close to the ice, I gained an entirely new appreciation of just how stupidly, insanely good Ilya Kovalchuck can be when he wants to. You can't see it sitting in the rafters, and television will never do it justice. The one image indelibly burned into my memory is the sight of his taking a pass just inside his own blue line, not thirty feet away from me, and within two strides hitting full speed as he blew past all of our forwards. Seriously, the entire section made a kind of awed *ooof* noise, as we watched the hot dog wrappers get sucked into the vortex he left behind. Oh, and we lost the game.

My point? We're screwed.

Behind Enemy Lines:

As improbable as it may sound for a last place (until tomorrow...WEEE!) team that draws slightly smaller crowds than the local IHOP, the Thrashers are blessed with quite a number of quality bloggers. I'll highlight Do The Thrashers Have Large Talons here, but only because I love the name. But do yourself a favour and peruse the others in The Falconer's roll. Who says the South can't do hockey? Now that' enough out of you, Winnipeg...

Doin' it up, Cover It Live style:

Because we're suckers for punishment the OBC, led by our intrepid emailing machine, Dany Heatly Speedwagon, will once again be polluting the tubes with half formed opinion, off topic tangents about various foodstuffs and lots of ampersands cleverly disguised as curse words. Join us, won't you? If for nothing else than the inherent joy in slap-typing OH JUST STFU PIERRE!!! over and over again.