Plan the Parade: Habs play well enough not to lose and earn points 4 &5 out of a possible 8 on their infamous Christmas road trip. Guimauve pots #10 on the year, and continues to display not only chemistry with Captain K, but also the realization that he will only score goals while standing within 2 feet of the crease. And there is nothing wrong with that - Owen Nolan has scored 371 career goals and they've travelled a combined 371 1/2 feet. AK27 scored again and still looks interested, to our continued astonishment. Maxim Magazine scores his first of the year, which really should have been credited to Bolts D-man Filip Kuba, with an assist to Holmqvist. Markov scores and is plus 9 in his last 9 games. Big Tits adds another. The Habs best forward since his promotion, Little Tits, adds an assist and continues to show he could play on a line with a chimp at center and a baboon on the other wing and still impress us. Young blueliners Rhino and Georges don't suck, and their presence means Patrice Brisebois is still locked in the truck.
The Sky is falling: Despite the W and the road points, let's not get too excited - remember those two late goals were brutal giveaways, albeit after the game was decided. More to the point, do you remember any great shifts or even plays? All I remember were Bolts tripping over their sticks and deflecting pucks past thier own goalies (and thanks again, Mr. Kuba). This win was more the result of the Bolts stinking up the joint than the Habs beating a legit opponent. Maybe T.Bay forgot it was a home game (where they have the best home record in the conference) due to all the ex-Queebs in attendance - including several top-heavy blonds in the row right behind the Habs' bench. The only time all season I've appreciated RDS' continuing coverage of the Various Angry Faces of Carbo. HF10's Boy Higgins gets a hee-yuge demotion to the third line, next to Maxim Mag and Milk Carton Mike - although it's better than My Boy Chips, who watched from the press box (although I'm convinced he took the time to pay a visit to the Lightning Girls "backstage"). Milk Carton Mike proves he could play with Gretzky at center and Mario Lemieux on the other wing and still manage to go minus-1, take a bad penalty and not score a point. Well, provided the aforementioned linemates were also wearing Habs jerseys. We all know that he'll pull a LeClair and score a goal and two assists in his first game against the Habs after he leaves, just like that little bastard, Mickey Ribs. Yes, we're still bitter.
Chez Paree Bound: No one really earned any lap dances last night - except for My [New] Boy Little Tits. Yeah that's right, I'm officially on the bandwagon. Plus, we're not letting the Habs out late due to the history of play again the next night.
Next Evil Foe: The freaking Panthers, who have the Habs number for some bizarre reason. Jacques Martin's bore-the-opponent-to-death system is the latest excuse, Eddie Belfour was the excuse last year, Roberto Luongo before that - none of which satisfactorily explain the Habs suckitude against this inept franchise. We'll take comfort in the fact that Youppi! could kick Stanley C. Panther's ass straight up and down the panhandle.