Oh, Bloody Hell

It never fails. Whenever I've wanted to take a little break...take a breather...rest my weary bones as it were, Ray Emery goes and says something stupid to drag my once infuriated but now merely exasperated ass back to the keyboard.

Not content to let his season's body of work speak for him from under the wreckage of a destroyed dressing room, our Ray-Ray decided that he would avail himself of the media presence during Packing Day in order to ensure we fully understand why we think he's a petulant, self-absorbed man-child who should never, under any circumstances, be entrusted with so much as a lemonade stand, let alone the Title hopes of an expectant populace.

If goaltender Ray Emery has indeed played his last game with the Ottawa Senators, he's not leaving quietly...Queried on whether he was unfairly held responsible for the Senators' late-season slide and became a distraction because of his mediocre play and lax practice habits, he responded: "Well, I don't take responsibility for the team losing in the playoffs, I'll tell you that much."

Of course, technically speaking, he didn't. After all, he hasn't played a game since Teflon was canned.

But here's the thing Ray. Any Sens fan who has been paying even the slightest attention (and I count myself as one of them) knew our Championship season actually ended three months ago, the humiliation-by-sweep being merely the logical conclusion. And that's all on you, fuckstick. We know it, The Bryan knows it, and I have a feeling that someday in the not so distant future when you're sitting around sharing pints and dodging pool cues with your new ECHL buddies in some Biloxi biker bar, you'll figure it out too.

Other gems in today's Ray-Ray hit parade:

"I showed up late for practice twice this year and had an opportunity to come on the ice. I was just late coming to the rink and they told me to go home ...When some other guys are late coming to the rink, they're just fine or whatever happens."

That's probably because they didn't subsequently mail it in during that same practice.

"I think it's media coverage that, you know, there's not really a whole lot in Ottawa going on other than this hockey team."

Yep, nothing says "I absolutely see the error of my ways and would love the opportunity to come back and work harder than I ever have in my life so that I may redeem myself in the eyes of the organization and its fans" like calling the fan base a bunch of cud chewing hicks easily swayed by an obviously biased media.

It will cost the Sens roughly $1.7 million against the cap, spread over the next two years, to buy out this jackass's contract. Money well spent, I'd say.

I'll give The Bryan the sweet, sweet last words on this sad sack affair (as spoken at this afternoon's presser): "My plan is not to have him back."

Now go away asshole, and give me my break back.

Emery Lets Loose [Ottawa Citizen]
Murray Says Emery To Go; Spezza And Heatley To Stay [TSN.ca]

Mm Hmm? Yes? And If I Can Obtain For You Such An Animal?

We here at Five For Smiting take great pride in our ability to bring only the finest of ill informed opinion and conjecture to our gentle readers. It is an ability...nay, a responsibility...we take very seriously. In order to fulfill that responsibility, we use a process built on a gelatinous foundation of rumour, innuendo and alcohol, the integrity of which is jealously guarded with an enthusiasm bordering on zealotry. So when our research department, ably led by our Chief Canine Sir Humphrey Fartsalot and his team of poo flinging simians, digs up a downright amateurish attempt by the MSM to usurp that process, it leaves us no choice but to act:

PHOENIX -- After the Ottawa Senators raced to a 15-2 record, it would have been unthinkable. Even a couple of weeks ago, when they still sat atop the Eastern Conference, it would have been beyond the realm of possibility. But now it's such a tangible reality square in front of them that even they cannot ignore it: These Ottawa Senators may not hang on to a playoff position.

Now, please don't misunderstand. I admire the attempt, no matter how clumsy it may be. However, the lack of decisiveness, of passion...of conviction...is rather...um...minor league, don't you think?

Having closely analyzed the results garnered so far on this road trip, as well as having borne witness to the Senators truly execrable level of play over the last three plus months, I can categorically refute the above statement and say with utter certainty that these Ottawa Senators WILL NOT hang on to a playoff spot. It's self evident, really. In actual fact, so certain is the Five For Smiting Research Arm of this outcome, that it is already compiling a list of individuals who are most responsible for this abomination. The names "Murray", "Spezza", "Gerber" and "Emery" have already been written onto the ballot. In ink. All that remains is to determine the order of finish (all suggestions welcome in the comments).

And so, Mr. Panzeri, while I admire your enthusiasm, I suggest you leave this kind of thing to the professionals. Unless we manage to beat Phoenix tonight. In which case, all bets are off and of course we'll make the playoffs.

When that happens, I can always just blame my stupid dog.

Just Getting There Now Goal No. 1 [Ottawa Citizen]

IT'S HOPELESS!! UTTERLY HOPELESS!! Unless...

Hi Martin. It's me, SLC.

Now I realize that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot here, what with me hanging the "Swiss Pastry" moniker on you (and not the infinitely cooler "Swiss Cheese", I should add in my own defence). Oh...and of course there was the time when I wanted you traded for a bag of pucks. And hung in the ScotiaBank Place parking lot. Yeah...um...awkward. But...er...waddya say there Buddy? Friend? Oh pal 'o mine? Bygones, oui?

See, here's the problem. God help us, but we need you. I need you. I need you to shrug off your natural tendency toward non-confrontation and passivity, toward decorum, neutrality and utmost respect for obscure banking laws. Martin, I...nay, WE...need you to dump your innate "Swiss-ness". We need you to reach up and grab the #1 goaltending spot by the throat, wring its fucking neck, and not let go until mid June. And we need it to start tonight.

Why, you may ask? Well, how about, if you don't, you've left us with this:

"One of the things I would do over is the (Emery) stuff," Paddock said during a conference call. "Not really the tardiness. The tardiness has been there the last couple of seasons. I don't think there was really any change in how he was handled. When it came to being late five minutes before practice or five minutes after, I didn't let him practise.

"I should have put him off the ice when he wasn't working. I'm not talking about coming out early or staying late. It's just during practice. That would have been that accountability that they talk about. That's the one thing I would do differently."

When asked for a comment yesterday after practice -- how appropriate -- Emery refused to talk to the media.

Now, I've heard that you've been trying to assert a bigger leadership role in the room. And that's commendable. But...um...can you assert a little faster there, pal? Not to put too fine a point on it, but it's all on you now Gerbs. Without you, we're left with Coach Killer and his infuriating, and wholly undeserved sense of entitlement. Without you, we're done in the first round. So waddya say? Are you ready to cowboy up? Is Darth Gerber ready for a comeback?

The Rayzor Chronicles: What Happens In Vegas...Gets Your Ass Traded To Outer Mongolia

Handy man special. Good foundation, fundamentally sound. Needs electrical work (rewiring) particularly in attic. $7 million, or best offer. Inquire: E. Melnyk, c/o Bert's Bar, Rockley, Christ Church, Barbados.

Okay. I think I get it now. Granted, it took me a while, but I just needed a little time to make some sense of it. First I calmed down. I meditated. I pondered. I got mad again. I punched another nun. I calmed down. I slept on it. I wandered through the backyard desert in deep contemplation, wearing only a torn loincloth and subsisting on a diet of locusts and dirt. I prayed. I froze my nutsack. I wandered some more. I even thunk me some. Soon enough, my spirit guide appeared before me in the guise of (NSFW-ish) Ana Ivanovic slathered in baby oil (mental note for all future cold-weather desert wanderings: wear pants).

Gazing upon me with eyes that held the wisdom of a million years, she spoke, each word a drop of cool water on a parched tongue. "Dirt? Really? The dude ain't worth that. And you need to get a life". With that, she was gone. But not before I was filled with the light of inspiration! Thank you Spirit Guide! You have imparted your wisdom and left me with the only logical conclusion. Ray Emery ain't worth dirt! Nor is he worth a lot of other things you're likely to find lying around my backyard desert (you've met my dog, right?). And that's the problem.

Ray Emery's days as an Ottawa Senator are done (Sorry Sherry). We all know this, and I for one rejoice in it. His behaviour hasn't changed, he still doesn't practice hard, he's still the first guy off the ice after practice, he can't stop a stiff breeze and it seems he's also pretty stupid. Two hours to go a distance of 13 miles in a city with the most extensive public transit/taxi system on the planet? Really Ray?

Then there's the off ice stuff. Everybody knows about the tats, and the cockroach and the road rage. But there are also some nasty rumours floating around these here interwebs, children. Darker rumours about Ray and his possible off ice "pursuits". I'll let someone with a bigger readership and deeper lawyer-paying pockets break that little story (that said, I encourage everyone to read Erin's post at the Universal Cynic. Cough, indeed). And now this...again. It's too much Ray. Here's the rub, Sens fans. He can't stay here, but neither can we ship him anywhere else.

Murray doesn't want to send him to the minors. Not because of any compassion he may feel for Ray (lovely, "father knows best" soundbites aside), but because, according to the CBA, he'd have to put him on waivers first. Some other team could claim him on the way down to Bingo, which I think would be a godsend as it would rid us of both the headache and the salary. Yes, it would suck not to get anything in return, but this is strictly a "cut your losses" situation. HOWEVAH!, there's a little wrinkle to the waiver rules. If for some reason he is recalled to Ottawa, he has to clear them again, only this time, if he's picked up by another team, Ottawa is stuck paying half his salary. Even JFJ could work that out to his advantage. Somewhere, Ted Saskin is laughing his ass off.

He's untradeable. Very few GMs not named Mike Millbury would make a deal for a guy who doesn't care about the team, can't stay out of trouble either off the ice or on it, can't play worth a damn, seems to be incorrigible and comes with a 7.5 million dollar cap hit (Hugh Adami at the Ottawa Citizen has an unintentionally hilarious idea how a trade could work...but I'm sure once he sobers up, he'll come to his senses). Add that to the possibility that the aforementioned rumours may be true, bearing in mind that 90% of the league's dirty laundry, common knowledge inside the insular world of the NHL, never makes it into the press, and no GM in his right mind deals for Emery.

So, as far as I can see, the Sens have two options. Send him down to Bingo and let him rot out the rest of his contract there. If someone claims him on the way down, oh well. Or two, buy him out and release him to free agency. In other words, T.O. his ass.

I like option #2 better. Sure we'd take a small cap hit, pro-rated over the next two years. And that would suck. But do you know what would suck even more? Passing up an opportunity to tell Ray that this is all of his doing, he brought it on himself, and that the Ottawa Senators, as an organization, has never, will not now, and will never put up with shit like this from anybody at anytime.

Goodbye Ray. We warned you once about how we fans treat arrogant and irresponsible punks who think they're bigger than the team. Now go home and get your fucking shine box.

Ottawa Senators. Cancer Free Since--What? WHO? Aw Son Of A...

Fuck you Ray Emery. You made me break a promise. You made me break a promise and that pisses me off. Mind you, it doesn't piss me off as much as a primping primadonna whose inflated ego and delusions of grandeur threatens to derail an entire city's most fervent dream pisses me off, but close. You see, the promise I made, both to myself and Beloved was that, during this most peaceful and festive season of Christmas, I would put down my keyboard, climb down from my soapbox and leave all things Senators to sort themselves out without me. All I wanted was two weeks to just watch the games (or not), take in some WJHC goodness (or not), sleep too much, eat too much, drink too much and exchange awkward man hugs with long lost cousins. Two weeks. That's all I wanted. But no. You had to go and fuck it up for me. Well fine. If that's the way you want it, then listen up fuckstick.

We'll put aside the tattoos, the cockroach and the Tyson mask. We'll even put aside your inability to drive like an actual human being. Those were just circus side shows for the press to write about on off days. Those things had absolutely no bearing, and no effect on what went on between the boards. You played well, at times spectacularly, and we went to the Final. Everybody loved you. We even overlooked the fact that, in those five games against the Ducks, you very much choked like an asthmatic Greg Norman, but then, so did the rest of the team and all was forgiven. But not now, and not anymore. Because what you're doing now is affecting what goes on between the boards, and in the dressing room. Most important of all, you're screwing with our title shot Ray, and that cannot be tolerated.

So let me lay it out for you. You don't like being the backup? Fine. How about you don't suck? How about not giving up 10 goals on 80 shots in your last three full games? How about not pulling yourself out of game five minutes in because you suddenly felt a "twinge" in an old injury you swore up and down to your coach not seven days before was fully healed? And while we're on the subject, how about not scheduling off season surgery so late in the summer that you miss most of training camp? Oh that's right, I forgot. Superheroes such as yourself don't need training camp.

Nor do they need practice, right Ray? You throw a hissy fit yesterday after finding out you weren't the starter against the Islanders, and then today, you show up five minutes before practice is supposed to start, leaving Coach P no choice but to throw your ass off the ice as an example to everybody that no one is bigger than the team. And rightly so. If Heater had been the one to pull that bullshit, I hope he'd have been sent home too.

But, see, here's where it gets especially infuriating. Now the entire organization has to cover your ass. Instead of thinking about Ovechkin and the Caps tomorrow night, the Head Office has to put out lame excuses for you, how you're "sick" and "not feeling well enough to practice". The rest of the team is left to answer the same question from the press about "What's wrong with Ray?" and tell everyone with a microphone and a note pad, over and over again, how this is in no way a distraction.

Well, guess what Ray...you ARE a distraction. But what you may not realize is this: you are very much an expendable distraction. Consider, you're being paid $3 million a year to be a backup. Darth Gerber has been (and may God forgive me for saying this) as solid as they come this season. Jeff Glass and his 2.36GAA and 92.5 save percentage is waiting in Bingo. And finally, there are quite a few teams a hell of a lot further away from a Cup than you are right now, crying for goaltender. Do the math Ray. Do the math, and shut the fuck up. Or in the words of The Captain:

“To get considered for a start, (the coaching staff) is looking for him to show that he wants to be in there,” said Alfredsson, who said he had not seen Thursday's incident. “You have to work hard in practice to show that you want to play. That’s what most players do when they’re not playing and the goalies are no different.”

Now, I can't imagine how angry Alfie has to be to call out a teammate in public, mostly because he has never had to do it before, but I'm fairly certain that's Swedish for "the Emperor has no clothes". And remember Ray, we ran one asshole who thought he was bigger than the team out of town on a rail, so don't think we won't do the same to you.

Alexei Yashin Will Take His Ball And Go Home [Five For Smiting]