Come To The Dark Side. We Have Cookies!

Hi. I’m Senators Lost Cojones. Some of you may remember me from such writings as “Héroux: Greatest Hab Of All Time?” and “Bettman vs. Canada: The Sodomite Years”. I have a confession to make. I grew up a Montreal Canadiens fan. That’s right. In my tender years growing up in Cornwall, Ontario (official motto: Come For The Smell, Stay For The EI Cheque!), I bled bleu, blanc et rouge. My family’s Easter dinners were scheduled around Montreal’s playoff games. One of my uncles refused to speak to me for years, after I posited that Les Glorieux’s draft record may not have been so hot. Claude Lemieux’s OT goal in Game 7 of the 1986 Adams Division final against Hartford reigned, until my discovery of the female breast, as the single greatest moment of my life. Then, in October of 1990, coinciding with my attendance at Carleton University (Hog’s Back High – Where the K stands for Kwality!) the NHL gave Ottawa its soul back. For the first time since 1932, Ottawa would have a big-league hockey team. My worlds collided, and I had a choice to make. The seminal moment came on October 8th, 1992. You may remember it. Ottawa 5, Montreal 3 (some things never change). And as I watched a rag-tag group of cast-offs, has-beens and never-will-bees vanquish my boyhood heroes I discovered that I had become a fan. And you can too.

That’s why I’m here. I’m here to show you there is a better way. No longer should you feel obligated by “tradition” or “it’s what my syphilis ridden grandfather would have wanted”. I’m here to say, it’s okay. Come to us. We will welcome you. I’m throwing on my #13 Jamie Baker jersey, pulling up my Laurie Boschman underoos and presenting you with The Top Ten Reasons You Should Abandon Mediocrity And Become A Sens Fan!

#10: Our mascot won’t molest your children. Habfan 29 made much ado about the apparent weakness of Spartacat. But think about it. Which would you trust more with the entertainment of your precious progeny? A cute fuzzy lion dressed up as a hockey player, or a washed up, derelict muppet with a lazy eye on his second job who refuses to wear pants?? Exactly.

#9: Welcome to the New England Patriots of the NHL. Heatley, Fisher, Alfredsson, Volchenkov, and soon to be Spezza, all signed through the 2011 season. That, boys and girls is the making of a dynasty not seen since…well…since 1976. And of course, due to Commissar Bettman’s shrewd leadership, the salary cap can only go up, allowing our Senators to plug in the supporting cast as needed. That’s what I’m telling myself anyway. I fully expect to see John Paddock patrolling the Sens’ bench in a sleeveless hoodie by March.

#8: Hockey in May! For those of you previously unaware of the fact, there is hockey being played after the regular season ends. It’s called “the playoffs”. Ottawa has played on or near Victoria Day (that’s Day Of Imperial Oppression for you separatists) every year for the last ten. Come to our side and enjoy the ride!

#7: We don’t worry about dancing leading to touching. There’s a reason Ottawa is known as the “Town that fun forgot”. While Canadiens players are distracted by the cosmopolitan nature of Montreal, the easy commute to your downtown rink, not to mention the most beautiful “danceuses exotiques” in the western hemisphere, if not the world, Senators players have no such problems. Our boys make the hour and half hour (at rush hour…no cushy “Metro” for us) trek to our suburban rink in blissful ignorance of such frivolity. The game is the thing. In fact, I hear Mike Fisher wears a hairshirt and self-flagellates on the way to games. Such dedication, whether by choice or by the fact that there really isn’t anything else to do, only leads to more wins and less “misquotes” to the press. Are you listening Mr. Kovalev?

#6: Our Canadian billionaire owner is better than your American billionaire owner. Eugene Melnyk is a man possessed. He wants that Big Ugly Trophy so badly, he doesn’t care who or what he crushes on the way to getting it. George? Well I’m sure he checks the standings between attempts to cram another blade in our shavers.

#5: We didn’t draft Darcy Tucker. ‘Nuff said.

#4: Rediscover winning! Twenty four Stanley Cups has a way of making a fan base rather blasé. We’re on a 77 year drought. Last year’s Finals only made our hunger and fanaticism that much stronger. I can guarantee you will never hear Ottawa’s mayor issue a directive that the parade “will follow the usual route”. Mostly because he’s an idiot who’s too busy trying to figure out which way to hold his pen. But my point still stands. Come to us, and remember how sweet your first was. Admit it. Nothing else ever feels the same.

#3: We have the most expensive headcases ever. 7 million dollars tied up in two of the weirdest goalies in the League. Gerber Baby signed to be The Guy last season then folded like a cheap suit seven games in after realizing that his new city took hockey rather more seriously than his previous acquaintances made up of NASCAR loving rednecks. Rayzor took over and led us to the Final. On the way, he caused one traffic accident, decided that Mike Tyson was an appropriate role model, ate a cockroach on a bet, and dyed his hair blonde. In training camp he threatened the life of a fellow motorist ( then again, I would have done the same). Christobal Huet? I think he may have once run with scissors. When he was six.

#2:




And the number one reason why you should all become Senators fans: You can survey the rest of the sad-sack, craptacular Eastern Conference and with confidence, point and scream: WHO’S YOUR DADDY??