Thanks Bryan. Now Go Find Twelve More Just Like Him

Back in my pre-buttergut days, before I discovered the twin temptresses of beer and bacon, I played minor hockey, football and high school basketball (by “played” basketball, I mean “sat on the bench and waved a towel in an excited and inspirational fashion until the coach put me in at the end of a blowout”) and on every team I’ve ever been on, there’s always one. One guy who may not be the most talented player or whose contributions won’t always show up on a stat sheet, but a guy without whom you have absolutely no chance of winning anything. One of my football coaches called them “spoon guys”.

Thankfully for us, we didn’t attend a Catholic school, and therefore, the turn of phrase caused no undo alarm. Coach’s basic point was that every successful team had on it a player, who when handed a teaspoon and told to dig a hole through a brick wall, would salute smartly and have at it, bug-eyed and foaming at the mouth, until either the hole was duly dug, or the player died in the attempt, his spoon-hand nothing but a mangled, pulpy mass.

Since his rookie days as a Senator, Mike Fisher has been that guy. And he will be That Guy for the Senators until 2012.

It looks as though Mike Fisher won't be going anywhere for a while. Fisher has signed a five-year, $21 million extension with the Ottawa Senators. He will earn $1.5 million this season.

Fisher scored 22 goals and dished out 26 assists in 68 games with the Senators last year. In 384 career NHL games Fisher has totals of 92 goals and 100 assists and a +49 rating.

Now, I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve always had a bit of a man-crush on Fish and I was getting mighty nervous at the thought that we’d lose him for nothing or worse, traded for yet another Russian pansy and a case of Metamucil (hello Mucks) as free agency loomed. I was terrified that the Senators wouldn’t recognize how valuable a guy who goes 100mph in every shift of every game really was to the team, regardless of his point totals. Thank Christ I was wrong, and like Alfie before him, we can safely call Mike Fisher a Senator for life while the Leafs die a little more inside.

There will be a night, ten to fifteen years from now, when the number 12 will be lifted to the rafters of Scotiabank Place (or whatever the hell it’s called by then) to take its rightful place beside Alfie’s number 11 and the 8 of Frank Finnigan.

If you’re there, look for me. I won’t be hard to find. I’ll be the idiot holding up the spoon.

Senators Sign Fisher To Extension [TSN.ca]

In No Way Can This Be Misconstrued. Nope. Not At All

Every hockey fan knows (or if you don’t you’re about to find out) that each member of the Stanley Cup winning team gets a day with the Cup during the off season to do with what he pleases. And of course, as professional hockey players the world over are renowned for their maturity, clarity of thought and general all around genius, this has led to the Cup being kicked into the Rideau Canal, used as a horse trough and spending time at the bottom of a swimming pool (among other less distinguished incidents). Carrying on this fine tradition, we present Temmu Selanne and his whirlwind tour of Finland with its mountains so lovely and treetops so tall.

In Finland, the concept of a sauna is a much-loved part of everyday life, and a Stanley Cup celebration screamed 'SAUNA' to the men at Selanne’s party. The orange-shirted fans, doffing their recognized attire, clambered into the sauna, followed by a few others. Selanne briefly brought the Stanley Cup in with him.

Now personally, if I were in possession of the Holy of Holies, sitting in a hot room crammed…ahem…cheek-to-cheek with a bunch of sweaty naked guys would probably not be the way I would choose to celebrate. But that’s just me.

So party on Temmu! But jeez, would it have killed you to go to a strip club?

p.s.: Special thanks to the geniuses at Battle of Ontario for the pic. Apparently, the NHL isn’t quite as metro as Stanley and has since removed it.

Stanley Cup Jounal [NHL Connect]

They’re Still Pissed At Us For Celine. Are We Sure This Is A Good Idea?

Oh lordy-lord, is this going to be fun/terrifying/fascinating to watch. Our very own Donald S. “Grapes” Cherry will be adding his special sense of je-ne-sais-quoi to NBC’s playoff telecasts.

On one hand, this may vastly improve the NBC “experience” for our hockey neophyte cousins down south. On the other, this may bring calumny of biblical proportions (along with a goodly portion of the 1st Airborne Division) upon the Great White North. There is no middle ground.

"In the States, they wanted me to go on one time in Pittsburgh. Jaromir Jagr, it was when he had long hair and he was with Mario Lemieux and I said, 'There's Mario and his daughter.' It didn't go over too good. That was my last time in the States."

If calling Jagr a girl (and really, who hasn’t done that) is enough to get you banned from the great USofA, what are they going to do the first time he calls out an entire race on national television for being commie lovin' peacniks? I very much doubt the U.S. has a public official powerful enough to put a muzzle on Don. Only Canada’s Official Languages Commissioner has that kind of clout.

But fear not, tender hearts! To ensure that the Bombastic One maintains a calm demeanor, he is being teamed with…Brett Hull. Really, what could possibly go wrong with that?

Cherry to Make Debut on NBC [SI.com]

p.s.: “Better get some plaid” is one of the best quotes of the year and would make an excellent blog title, if I do say so.

Cry “HAVOC!”, And Let Slip The Dogs Of War!

And now, the real season. The little boys have taken their toys home to Mommy, leaving the field of battle to their betters. The greatest prize in all of Sport awaits the victor. It will sit patiently, waiting, as it has for 108 years. It will wait to see who can meet its only demand. 16 wins. 16 wins bought and paid for in blood, sweat, teeth, heart, soul and tears. That is all it asks. And yet it will demand more than 15 teams have to give. Only one team can remain standing at the end. Only one will have earned the right to call themselves “Champions”. This is why we watch. This is why we love and this is why we cheer.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in Canada now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Stanley's day.

With apologies to the Bard, it's Playoff time. Now let’s get it on.