Friday, November 20, 2009
Holy motherfucking crap how in the blue hell did that happen? Did aliens kidnap the crap team we've been watching and replace them with the nation's capital destroying monsters we saw tonight? That might be the only explanation. (Note to self: stop writing reviews after putting down a buncha beers, especially if the Cardiac Canadiens are gonna spend half the game playing Stalingrad to Washington's Germans but still win. This might be the first ever all superlatives review, people. McSplooge might have nothing on me. Fair warning.)
Plan the Parade: You're goddamn right I'm planning the parade! I'm delusional! I'm crazy with Canadiens fever! Pleks! Price! Hamr and Jaro 2.0! Squid! Coaches! THIS FUCKING TEAM IS PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER AND IT'S STANLEY CUP TIME BABY!!!! WHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Seriously, though: Pleks played another excellent game at both ends of the rink, and his linemates Big Tits and Max Pack actually gave him some support. It's early doors on this line, but please oh please let these two be the answers for Plek's cries for help. McSplooge McSplooged all over Hamr and Jaro 2.0, but they kept Ovie and Backstrom relatively quiet all night. Price didn't make any "holy shit" saves, but he was solid and calm and there when he was needed. Oh please oh please keep this going. Travis Moen provided some quality diggin and muckin for Squid and Gomez and potted a goal. Pyatt and White are constantly working hard. And here's a special mention for Mr. Jacques Martin: Hey, do you think Carbo would have had a game plan like that ready for Ovie and the Caps, or would that sucker have ended 9-3 with Ovie getting 5? Martin came into this going with Hamr and Jaro 2.0 against Ovie, shifted lines like a maniac to keep that match-up on the road, and did some clever juggling after something happened to Gomez early in the third. (Here's hoping Martin just told him to take off his fucking jersey, drive back to Montreal and apologize to the Molson's for stealing their money.) Oops. There goes the feel-good portion of our show. On to the angry-I'm-never-truly-happy-plus-I've-been-drinking rant!
The Sky is Falling: Jesus Fucking Christ on a bike Scott Gomez is fucking terrible right now. Anyone who had 22 games in the "That Lazy Overpaid Fucker Gomez is Gonna Drive HF10 Over the Fucking Edge" is the big winner. At one point I made a mental note to compare Gomez to 2007 Kovy, who essentially kneecapped Pleks and Big Tits for the entire year. Gomez was killing Squid and Moen tonight until he mysteriously and fortuitously left the game. I dub him The Albatross, for his contract and the fact that he will haunt Gainey until a) Gainey gets fired; b) Gainey can get rid of him or c) That ridiculous contract runs out sometime next decade.
Jacques Martin nailed Latendresse's ass to the bench at some point. I didn't notice for 15 minutes because Gui! was invisible when he was on the ice anyway. He has had enough goddamn chances and now it's time for an extended trip to the pressbox, aka Chips House (sorry Panger.) Finalement.
Max Pack looked good at points, but please tell me he hasn't inherited the Michael Ryder snakebitten stick of death. He'll need to start potting goals to make Pleks-Patches-Tits a viable second scoring option.
Urologist. Ah, fuck me. Panger, where the hell is your trunk!?!?!
There were points where you could see the Caps smelling blood in the water and it was white knuckle time. At one point I squinted at the tv and pretended it was 1977, the guys in red with the best/most exciting player in the league, the best offensive defenceman going and the goalie getting bored from lack of work was the Habs and it was the hometown white-clad Caps getting shelled. Ugly. But whatever, it worked.
Chez Paree Bound: Pleks gets his regular table. Price gets his regular bed in the champagne room. Squid gets behind the velvet ropes (excellent signing so far, it must be said.) Hamr and Jaro 2.0 get to be two wild and crazy guys in the booths. Martin and the coaches also get some special attention for their Operation OvieStop. Moen, Metro, Max Pack, even Big Tits can have some drinks in perverts row. Basically the Urologist and Gomez get stopped at the door. Hell, I don't even have too many bad things to say about BGL.
Next terrifying, offensive juggernaut in red opponent: Detroit. Saturday night. Summabitch.
Posted by Habsfan10 at 21:50
Tags: Carey Price, gratuitous use of the word fucking as an adjective, ovie has a semitic nose, plan the parade