Sens 4, Bruins 1: Darth Gerber Laughs At Your Pitiful Teddy Bear

Hello, Mr. Carbonneau. I am coming for you.

The Highs:

• A tightrope? No net? Perfect!: On Coach's Corner Saturday night, Grapes sent a message to The Bryan to the effect that based on his own experience with the temper mental beast that is an NHL goalie (see file: Cheevers, Gerry), Gerbs needed to know, beyond any doubt, that he was THE man in order to play at his best. Well, he's given Martin his sixth straight start and with Rayzor's walking papers locked safely away in the GM's top drawer awaiting only an end of season signature, the "it's your team now Gerbs" message has been received. And the results are increasingly magnificent.

• This puck will self destruct in 15 seconds: Good morning Mr. Heatley. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is a third straight 50 goal season, despite your lengthy recovery from a separated shoulder earlier this year. You currently stand at 35, with 11 games to go. This translates into a 1.4 goal per game average. Should you fail in this endeavour, we will have no choice but to punch Tom Cruise, repeatedly, in the groin. Should you succeed...well...we'll do it anyway. Only with more glee.

• Ooooh! I LOVE origami!: I simply must use some space here to give an awe struck golf clap to Bruins' forward, Aaron Ward. After taking the full brunt of an A-Train hit that literally folded him in half, backwards, at the Sens bench, which resulted in a pity-whistle from the officials and the sight of Ward crawling on all fours ever so slowly toward the B's trainers, he was back twenty minutes later to start the second period. Such heroics cannot go uncelebrated. Seriously. My own spine snapped in half out of sympathy. I'm actually typing this with a giant Q-Tip held between my teeth.

The Lows:

• I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I had a bit of reality blocking my ears: At roughly 10:00 of the second period, Gasbag Emeritus Gord Wilson stated the following (and I am not making this up) "Andrej Meszaros was easily the second best player for the Senators on their West Coast swing". I'm paraphrasing a bit, as the actual statement went on for about twenty minutes, running roughshod over three scoring scoring chances, twenty-seven Dean Brown statistical references and a repeat of Dubya's last State of the Union. Ten seconds later, Mesz tripped over his own skates at the B's blue line, forcing The Dark Lord to make a spectacular stop on yet another odd man rush caused by a Meszaros brain hemorrhage (by my count, number 14 since the Duck game). Even by Gordo's regular lofty standards, this one completely destroyed my Broadcaster Homer-O Meter.

• This really isn't working out. But we can still be friends: Don't get me wrong, I like Randy Robitaille. I do, really. By all accounts, he's a good guy, solid, dependable, not too flashy...likes puppies. In other words he's exactly the type of guy all the hot chicks in high school "liked" but wouldn't be caught dead with in a closet at a house party. That is to say, Bryan, he has no business being on the top line with Heater and Spez. Now if you'll excuse me, I apparently have some latent issues that need dealing with...

Pithy PPV observation of questionable importance:

For ten minutes in the third period, the demonic duo of Brown and Wilson were mysteriously absent from the broadcast. Nothing to hear but the sounds of the game on the ice, the grinding of skates, the "thock" of a well placed pass, the oohs and ahs of crowd. No play-by-play, no overly convoluted colour commentary, no nothing. If I closed my eyes, I could almost smell the flat, overpriced beer from the concourse. It was glorious.

The Creamy Middle:

We may not have our MOJO back, Sens fans, but we do know where the little bastard is hiding and it's only a matter of time before we have him back in his cage, where he belongs. Last night's game was as close to our true form as we've seen since early December. The legs were moving, the boys were on every puck like a john on a Times Square hooker, and the goaltending was positively money. If I were our four division opponents, whom we face in 9 of the next 11 games, I might tend to be a little concerned. But then...that's just me.

Up Next:

A chance to regain a tie for the division lead beckons, as we travel to Montreal for the first of three games against the Habs before the end of the year, Sportsnet East with the regional coverage. If I may offer the kiss-of-death...it will be nice to be able to measure ourselves against such an elite team. Enjoy!

Behind Enemy Lines:

Seriously. Do you have to ask? While things may get a little heated between us over the next three weeks or so, Four Habs Fans is the place. As long as they stay away from the he-man stripper picks. After all, we aren't the Leafs.

Game 31: Sens 7, Thrashers 3 -- The Schwartz Is Strong In This One

Alright, I'm convinced. Darth Gerber has returned. I was tempted to retire "Swiss Pastry" (or at least put it aside, always leaving it within easy reach mind you) after he bailed the Senators' inexplicably horrendous asses out during the first period Thursday night absolutely robbing Syd and the Kiddie Corps in the process. Sherry, over at Scarlett Ice, already had. But such is my utter lack of confidence in his confidence, that I decided to hold off at least one more game, with Hossa and Kovalchuck coming to town. What I hadn't counted on is how craptacular the Thrashers not named Hossa or Kovalchuck actually are. But, based on the fact that he made the stops he needed to make last night (especially on those back-to-back 5 on 3s in the 3rd), kept most of the rebounds out of the middle of the slot and managed not to slide into the first row on any of his initial stops, I'll give it back. Really, what choice do we have, right Ray?

The Highs:

• Do you suffer from motion sickness? Talk to your doctor about Dimenhydrinate: We started 16-2. Then we went 0-5-2. Now we're on a 5 game win streak. All of this means we're still on top of the East by 8 points and leading the division by 6 (all Massholes enraged by the NHL's screwy math, please line up outside the Commissar's office...that is once you remember Boston has a hockey team). While the standings after 31 games can't be considered a surprise, how we got here is. Therefore, for the remainder of this season, all Senators fans presenting a "Sens Army" window flag, will receive a 20% discount on all purchases of Gravol and Dramamine.

• Oh. So thaaaat's "Secondary Scoring". Gotcha: Mesz, with his fifth of the year, continues his reign of terror on Scandinavian goaltenders, leading the scoring race amongst all right-handed defencemen born in Povazska Bystrica, Slovakia in 1985. Seriously. Look it up. Verms, Kelly, and Spawn of Mike also chipped in. A lovely compliment to Heater's (ho hum) third straight two goal game.

• This is never easy to say: Another two points for Joey Corvo, including the assist (nice saucer pass Joe) on Heater's second of the night to make it 6-3 and pop Atlanta's balloon, gives him 10 points in 10 games. I know I've been hard on you Joe. And make no mistake, your efforts are appreciated. But I still want your ass traded as soon as humanely possible. Why? Read on...

The Lows:

• This is never easy to say (Part II): Joe, the only reason you were in position to get that assist was because you had come out of the box following yet another stupid offensive zone penalty at exactly the right time. And while we're on the subject how does one score 10 points in 10 games and yet have a +/- rating of +8 in those games? Now, statistically, you're golden. Good for you. But statistics won't tell us how many times you cough up the puck at the point (6 by my count, all of them right toSydney Freakin' Crosby on Thurdsay with a couple of others to Kovalchuck last night) or get caught out of position or just flat out get beat. There's a reason we're giving up an obscene amount of shots against this year. And a lot of it has to do with the play of #7.

• Hello, Home Depot? I'd like 22 rolls of bubble wrap please: First there was Golden Groin's practice mishap. Then, Rayzor's adventures in a batting cage. Next, Ray again, for reasons unknown, having to pull himself out of the game in Carolina (after dicking the team around in warm ups, I feel compelled to add). The very next night Gratz goes down with a shoulder injury in fight with Laraque, not because he was beaten mind you, but because he was trying to shake his glove loose. And now we have Fish out for an undetermined amount of time because of what's being called "an oblique muscle injury" suffered...wait for it...after Sean Donovan crashed into him during a line change. Did I mention Fish was on the bench at the time?

Creamy Middle: More good than bad in this one. We'll take the two points, thank you, and we can safely assume that the danger of falling back into another slump has passed...for now. The effort is up (that's GOOD!), but we're still way too inconsistent in our own end to be totally comfortable with any kind of lead (that's BAD!). Darth Gerber is giving us $3mil per year goaltending (that's GOOD!), yet Swiss Pastry lurks just beneath the surface (that's BAD!) waiting for a fluke goal to come roaring back. And of course, there's always Joe...(that's...aw forget it).

Up Next: Tuesday night, in Boston, Sportsnet with the coverage. As I'm looking at the four feet of snow that has drifted up my garage door, I can only hope I can dig myself out in time to make a beer run for this one. Seriously. Have you looked outside? Boss, unless you've got a sled team waiting for me, I may not be in tomorrow.