Showing posts with label Craig Hartsburg. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Craig Hartsburg. Show all posts

Monday, February 2, 2009

The Bryan Takes Arms Against a Sea of Troubles, And By Opposing...Doesn't Accomplish Much, Frankly


Well played, gentlemen. Yet another coach granted the sweet embrace of death, all because you can't or more aptly, won't look in a fucking mirror. Well played indeed.

Thirteen months this has been going on. Thirteen months of the same crap play, the same crap excuses, the same crap soundbites of "trying harder" and "have to play together" and "just have to keep it simple". Thirteen months of bad passes, dumbass decisions, lazy skating, no hitting, non existent forecheck, execrable backchecking...Thirteen months of SHIT!

In hindsight, I'll admit I was rather unseemly in my glee after you managed to get Teflon gassed last season. But it's obvious now it was only because I didn't know any better.

So you tell me, boys. How is this time going to be any different? How is this hard nosed, no-nonsense, "by all that is holy I can change them!" coach going to be any different than the last two hard nosed, no-nonsense, "by all that is holy I can change them!" coaches?

Will it make you, Giggles, actually go digging for a puck along the boards instead of flailing at it with your stick from five feet away, reaching so far that you're bent in half with your ass sticking almost straight up? Will it keep you from being the first guy to the bench while the other team comes screaming into our zone on an odd man rush so you don't get dinged with the minus?

What about you Alfie? God knows I love you, but will a new coach finally make you grab K-Rock or Verms or 6' 3", 230lb Schubie Doo around the neck for bailing on a play to avoid taking the hit and tell them to CUT. THE. SHIT?!?!

How about you, Fish? Think a new coach will inspire you to rediscover the net crashing, forechecking terror of hapless defencemen you were before you stuck your little-bit-rock-and-roll into her little-bit-country?

Oh, and Neiler, for your sake, I hope a new coach will remind you of the differences between playing like prick instead of just flapping your gums about doing it while hiding behind a linesman. In case you hadn't noticed, you're all we have left.

As for the D...every single putrid, rancid, decrepit one of you...Please, I beg. Pray tell, what will a new coach do for you? Will he teach you how to successfully complete a four foot pass? Will he teach you not to force your partner into a cross-ice breakout because you were too stupid to come back to support? Will he teach you how not to get flat footed at the opposite blueline? And most of all, will he show you how to properly clear a crease by putting an opposing forward on his ass instead of giving him prissy little shoves while you try and hook his stick?

And now, here we are. Again. We have "Interim" Head Coach Cory Clouston, fresh off the farm, nary an NHL game on his resume. Oh joy.

That said, it is truly my fondest wish that "interim" is code for "bag skate your worthless asses into the ice until your kids puke". But if, on the off chance it doesn't, there are other options available. That noise you hear in the distance, however faint, is The Pat Quinn Party Bus warming up, and it may just be heading this way. God knows, I'll do everything in my power to flag it down.

So go ahead, gentlemen. Tell me how this time will be different. Better yet, show me. Because if you don't, if you keep on keepin' on (again) sooner or later The Emperor will bring in somebody who will insist on it. But I don't think you'll like it. And this time, it won't be the coach that takes the fall.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Craig Hartsburg! I Am All A-Quiver With Undecided Apathy!

Photo courtesy of Sean Kilpatrick/The Canadian Press/AP Photo.

As we shed a single tear watching Pat Burns and his oncological sidekick ride off into the sunset, headed we know not where...but the smart money is on Lou "Fish Eye" Lamiarello's buffet table... let us welcome Craig Hartsburg, newly minted Grand Chief Whistle Dude of your Ottawa Senators.

While it is true that most of Craig's head coaching experience involves keeping pubescent boys from drinking illegally and catching the clap from Russian hookers, the first second fourth first third first choice of the Ottawa sporting media does have two WJHC gold medals on his resume, so that's something. And while one could make the argument that a poo-flinging simian would have won two gold medals with the talent on those Championship teams, we won't here for fear of being seen as an ungracious host.

So what does Craig bring to the table? In a word, "accountability". No really. He said so himself. Twice:

''Early in this whole thing, the players will see that there's a plan and we're certainly here as coaches to motivate the players to follow the plan. And then if the plan is not followed, there will certainly be accountability,'' Hartsburg said. ''I don't want to get into specifics, but trust me, there will be accountability. It'll be black and white. They'll know what's right and what's wrong and they'll know there's a line not to cross.'' (Ed. note: Pssst...Jason. I think he's talking to you. Has to be. Wade and Rayzor are history.)

And as long as some of those "specifics" involve two hour bag skates after lousy efforts and the occasional cattle prod to the groin of those who can't find the corners, I'm right there with you buddy!

So welcome to the fish bowl Craig! We're happy to have you aboard, and wish you nothing but the best! For now. But the first time you triple shift Alfie to get yourself out of a jam, I'm ripping you to pieces. Just thought I should make that clear. You're not in the Sault anymore.