Hey there! Dudes &&& Dudettes!!
The good fellas here at FHF asked me to write a little bit about late night's game. They tell me that this use to be J's gig, but now that I'm a pine-ridin', ball-cap-wearin' backup goaltender, it's my turn to enlighten all of Habs' fandom with
my words of wisdom
.Who's J, you ask? Duh, that's the one and only, Mr. Jaroslav Halak. I hear you guys know J cause he's written a bit about his times here in Montreal waaaaayy back when I was the main dude in the blue paint - before the braintrust decided to rest me for the playoffs - a little early in my humble opinion, but whatever, dude. Anyway, J and I get along famously: he's always jokin' around with me, calling me a Phat Whale in his usual straight-faced, you-wouldn't-know-he-was-jokin'-unless-you-shared-a-net sort of way. I also love the way he calls our head coach "Martoon". Makes me think of Bugs Bunny. Now that's a funny rabbit! I call coach "Captain Jacky" - you know, cause he doesn't want a team captain, and his name is really "Jacques"! That's why it's funny! I love irony, dudes.
Anyway, back to J: It amazes me how many dudes think he's serious when he writes that stuff about me! Dudes, J's from behind the I-Ron curtain, he can't spell "Phat" right! He calls me that cause I look so BIG in the net: like the world's largest animal. And it's not like he pissed on my rug and called me an asshole or anythin'. I fucking
hate when that happens. And really, there's not much I hate. Karma, you know.
-- Thought just popped into my head: If you could be any animal, whadda ya think it'd be? Not a whale. Dude, I just LOVE horses. That'd be AWESOME. Anyway.
Oh, and before I get into the game action, what's with Bobby G takin' a walk before those games back in my home state even get started? The G's my type of dude: quiet, thoughtful, likes a toke from time to time. And he fucking LOVES bowlin'. You should see him when he's in the lane: I say he's the best all-around and most complete bowler alive today. And he's not even a pro! Dude, that's cool. But did you see that presser with the new main dude, Peter whatever? It was like a funeral for Bobby or somin'.
Anyway, so what's up with the Caps and that winnin' streak? Can't be selfish like that, gotta let the other team win once in a while, as they finally figured out (oops, don't want to ruin the endin'!). Bad karma if you win too often, ya know? Look at me, I'm all about the good karma: I've made sure not to win two in a row since I got called up from Hams - even though I could if I wanted. The braintrust know I'm The Dude. Just wait 'till you see all the zeros on the contract Peter the new dude gives me this summer! (Speakin' o' which : tokes' on me, Bobby G!! Couldn't a done it without 'cha, buddy.)
So let's get to the game. What a start, dudes! Gomer and the NEW Tommy P were fucking FLYING out there on that first shift. But what the fuck was up with o'Byrnsy on that giveaway to that Light dude? Dude was wearing a WHITE jersey, o'Burnsy-dude! But if I know o'Burnsey - and of course, I do - he was high as a KITE by then. He's our very own Rocket Man, ya know what I mean?
But really, the first period of time was all about my good, close personal friend, Mr. Josh Gorges - Gorgeous George to his buddies. You wouldn't know it from all that faith he talks, but dude's got a temper. I bet he pulls a gun on that Mike Green dude in the parkin' lot after the game. It's a league game, Mike!!
And the start of second period of time - wouldn't you know it - same freakin' thing, dudes. The NEW Tommy P pots his FIRST CAREER GOAL just 41 tiks in, and then - BANG - that Ovie dude's line cuts a swath to the crease and - BOOM - all tied up. Did you see that Ovie dude just plow over the Space-head on his way to the net? (We call him "Space-head" cause when he's high, dude comes out with some WILD fucking stories, dudes. You wouldn't believe what you can pay hookers to do back in Space-head's hometown back behind that I-Ron curtain I just learned about.)
So you want to know the real reason the Caps pulled that kid, Newbirth or whatever? Dude couldn't hold my JOCKSTRAP, yo. Just kiddin', I wouldn't ask anyone to do that, except Captain Jacky! Just kiddin again, of course - Captain Jacky loves me, that's why he's playing J so much more. He knew I needed some more pot time. Uhh, I mean...pot time. Anyway, I heard the Newbirth kid was so worried about facing me he crapped his pants. So they brought that Josie dude in, 'cause he has some sort of history around here. I don't remember anyone talking about him before, though. I thought some Patrick dude played here before me and Huey the Real Frenchman. I keep hearing about that Pat guy for some reason.
Anyway, after Josie made a few ok saves, Subway scored (get it? Because that's English for "Metro"? I fucking kill me sometimes. Trust me, we'll be seeing that nickname on Puck Daddy's 'jersey fouls' pretty soon.) Nice goal, even if Subway dude needed to kick it in. Then - BANG - another BUT as they say in Quebecer. I have no idea why the crowd was cheering Josie's name after that one, though. Dudes (some one's gotta tell me what is french-speak for "Dude", by the way) WE scored, not them!!
Then that Ovie dude just plowed over ME to almost score a goal. That's why me and Space-head are so cool, I know how he feels. 500 pounds of Ovie dude and Gillie Weed (dude smokes like a CHIMNEY!) is like a horse coming at you. (I just LOVE horses. Did I mention that yet? It's important.) But that Ovie dude is cool - he's got the quality hook ups for me and Bobby G, if you know what I mean.
-- So I was just wonderin': any of you dudes have
any idea why Captain Jacky would be handin' over a big-ass briefcase to some group of dudes in stripy shirts before the game? Probably nothin'. I keep my undies in a briefcase sometimes. Never know who's after your undies.
So anyway, before the end of the second period of time, Tommy P (Classic) scored another one. So when the third period of time started, I was thinkin' "Carey, what would Jesus do?", so right away I let that Mike Green dude score from 45 feet with no one standing anywhere near my paint. I though I'd buy some karma with that since I knew that Mike Green dude must be feelin' worried about what Gorgeous George was gonna do to him in the parkin' lot.
But I was just starting on the karma train, dudes! I've gotta have a whole BUNCH of karma saved up after that (almost) last period of time! You know, cause I let Light shine though to the back of net, twice! (Ha, see, I'm freakin' hilarious when I want to be! It's funny cause he's not really made of photons: he's a man!).
Let's be serious here for a moment: it's not like I couldn't stop all those pucks if I decided I wanted to. Just ask any RDS dudes - they know the truth - it's never
my fault. It's just that karma thing, plus this time I was hoping the fans would throw some hats on the ice for that Light dude so I could pick out the ones I like for the next half-dozen games when I'm done playin' and I'm back to watchin'. And I wasn't upset about that last one - as some SUPER excitable dude on TV said - I was just giving the puck to stripy shirt dude. I figured if Captain Jacky liked 'em enough to give 'em a whole briefcase, I should give them something, too. Karma, you know?
Anyway, so then we got into an extra period of time and in the end it's all about my stellar goaltendin' - oh, and the winner by Tommy Classic from Tiny Tits. Tiny Tits was pretty good, what with the triple helpers - but not as good as good ol' Carey, of course. (Ok, ok I know I have to explain that last nickname to you: you see, if you look at the middle letters in "Kostitsyn", what do you see? The word "Tits"! And Sergei's not a big guy, plus he's a little brother, so, like, "Tiny Tits" is a natural! Fuck I'm a funny guy.)
Anyway, that's it. That's the story. Of course, like any good movie, the good guys win in the end. And I'm a good guy.
You're welcome, dudes.
I just love me. And horses, of course!