Dodo Eggs Hatch, America Pulls Out of Iraq, Spears Beats Kasparov in Epic Duel - Habs 4, Devils 3

Bloody impossible.

Down 3-1 to begin the third period in New Jersey, the odds had Vegas closing shop and headin' on home.

The latest Habs-Devils matchup couldn't have looked more redundant. The Canadiens played here in vain throughout the Bush administration. The trouncing of the Bruins on Tuesday night must have been the result of a Guy Carbonneau speech that would have included the following reminder: "Look, you ass warts, we all know we're gonna get raped in Jersey on Thursday, so we better come out hungry tonight and get those two points".

Psychology and sports. Like Denzel and passionate pleas from a prison cell. The Bruins boss the NHL around all year but can only boast a good but not great record because the Habs, in handing them a quarter of their losses so far, have balanced out their results. Embattled Boston faces the Habs and the Bruins suddenly look smaller, slower, feeble. Montreal is to Boston what New Jersey is to Montreal. The Habs require mental bypass surgery to get through the psychological blockade that inevitably leaves them clueless in a Brodeur crease.

Outwardly, a New Jersey-Montreal game usually looks like a bore. A slow tempo display of Devil patience in a game of low risk trapping and containment. It offers the few remnants of the NHL in the dark years, a nothing's changed cadence of three evenly dull periods in the blandest show hockey has to offer.

Yawn.

If the editors in New Jersey had commissioned the Another Day at the Office headline for the following day's sports section during the second intermission, those orders had to be called back 30 seconds into the third, when the Habs decided to leave the past behind and pen a fresh new story for this game.

Because, truth be told, this game really started in the third period. With a Brian Smolinski finally parking himself where he is paid to be, in front of the net, 2 goals would come off his stick. His second of the night, the early marker to begin the third, erased the New Jersey momentum conjured by the Elias goal in the second that had made it 3-1 and given the impression that the game was out of reach.

The Kovalev line appeared to draw much from this early sign of promise and resumed its inexplicable brand of genius from there on end. With Kovalev a master of puck possession, the line willed itself into the New Jersey zone. And there it stayed. And there it was joined, by the whole team, with every line taking its turn at pushing New Jersey deeper and deeper into their own end. With that came inevitable attempts to thwart the Montreal blitz, a tactic which only yielded a flurry of Devil penalties and an ensuing abundance of scoring chances for the NHL's premier power play unit.

We can attempt to lend Montreal Braveheart desire and label this game their unflinching dedication to a win in New Jersey. No need for the exaggeration. This was just a result of focus, work, and a good use of the team's most prized asset: speed. That, and the levelling out required by the law of averages; Montreal had to win in New Jersey one day.

It comes as little surprise that the Habs found cracks in a team that has begun to move away from the quasi dynasty built over the better part of the last decade. While still inspired by phenomenal goaltending, the Devils of yesterday were not constructed with the image of the new NHL in mind. Stripped away on the blue line with the departures of Rafalski, Niedermayer and Stevens, the rigid steel that opposing forwards feared at the back now bends, seemingly at will, should a team want it enough. Age, evolution and change in the way the game is played, all these things have aided in arresting New Jersey's imposing march. Despite its apparent demise, the franchise still manges to maintain and cultivate this aura of greatness, incredibly in the middle of oft-neglected New Jersey, the likes of which only certain teams in this league have managed to thread as part of their fabric. Everyone in New Jersey, including Martin Brodeur, knows who to thank for that. Even in a new found mediocrity, the Devils still appear to be great.

Last night, this evidence of mortality paid Montreal 2 much welcomed points. And with them, more importantly, the comfort in knowing that the Devils can now finally be beaten in New Jersey.

Second Verse, Same as the First: Price Punks Leafs a Second Time

Second verse, same as the first! Tucker is a punk, Stajan is a runt ...

Remember this? It's deja vu all over again as Carey Price guarantees Christobal Huet has seen his last start against the Leafs in a Montreal jersey.

Plan the parade - The Christo-Wall might become the first guy to start the All-Star Game while playing back-up for his actual team. The Franchise Saviour (TM) was the difference again, turning aside 43 shots and holding off 4 of 5 Leafs in the shootout. Jason Blake finished the night with 8 shots and a shootout miss, and will be seeing a ten foot tall Price in his sleep for weeks. I'm seriously running out of ways to say the Franchise Saviour (TM) is calm, cool, steady, unflappable, always in position, and brilliant. Canadiens 31 jerseys will be flying off the shelves for Christmas this year.

The "Number 1" power play looked like it at times, going 2 for 5 thanks to brilliant passes by Markov to Kovy and then Smolinski to Kovy. El Dandy showed some jump tonight, using his speed to create chances and frustrate the Toronto defence. He looks comfortable up front. Gui! Gui! Gui! added some muscle to line 4A and potted a goal to boot. After an awful first period the Habs righted the ship and played a desperate Leafs squad to at least a standstill for the next forty minutes and overtime. The penalty kill was solid. The Habs even won more faceoffs than they lost, a remarkable feat considering they were around 30% after one period. Two points in the bank is always welcome, especially against the Leafs.

Special mention to one Michael Ryder. The FHF slams Mr. Milk Carton as much as anyone, but despite all his struggles this year, the demotions to line 4C, the benchings late in games, the calls for him to hit the bricks or sit in the pressbox, Ryder has not quit once this year. He works his ass off every night and deserves credit for that at the very least.

The sky is falling - 46 shots given up to a horrible Leafs team ripe for a beating. A first period that could have been a disaster if not for the Franchise Saviour (TM) and the Leafs tendency to aim right for the big CH on his chest. Our "shutdown" defence pairing of Markov and Komisarek let Chad Kilger pull a Mario Lemieux move for the second Toronto goal. Once again, a team coached by defensive wizards Carbo, Jarvis and Muller couldn't hold the lead with less than a minute to go, with Captain Koivu not getting enough wood on a clearing attempt in the last 30 seconds. Someone needs to look at the conditioning of this team, because they always look more gassed at the end of games then their opponents. Two points is good. Crushing the Leafs and eating their souls would have been better. Giving them a point is a bitch.

The League offices are upstairs? We'll save a stamp sending the tape. - Someone needs to fire every damn official involved in this game. The refs were atrocious in this one, and both sides have legitimate beefs. The next time Hal Gill and Andy Woznewski finish a shift without high-sticking someone will be the first. Stajan set a pick on El Dandy that got the Dandy two minutes for a brand-new on the spot penalty called offensive interference. Koivu probably thought a steel chair was the next wrestling staple someone would try on him, they even fucked up an icing call that lead directly to a Habs penalty. I'm sure there is a Leafs blog somewhere right now rhyming off just as many bad calls the other way. That was a stunningly inept performance. The only guy who had a worse night was the bloody moron on the Zamboni.

Chez Parée bound? - Franchise Saviour (TM). Kovy for the two goals and the shootout beauty. Big Tits for the shootout winner. Ryder, because he works like hell and deserves it after all the bitching and moaning he's heard. Leaf haters everywhere, because JFJ survives another day (and Glen Healy thinks he saw JFJ making a trade late in the game ... 2008 first rounder going where?)

4 lap dances out of 10. - Honestly, this was an awful, awful game to watch. The Habs were listless in the first, and if you take out a four minute span in the second and the overtime, this game was dismal start to finish. The fans were lifeless, the refs were bad, and my hoped-for curbstomping of the Leafs never materialized. Now we get to hear a few days of "Price stole you another one ... you can't beat the Leafs without your goalie stealing it" crap from the mouthbreathers. Deep breaths, everybody. Remind them that Messrs. Belfour and Cujo stole games aplenty for the Leafs over the past decade and they didn't apologize for it once.

Next evil evil foe - Habs travel to Newark to meet the Devils. If you're planning on attending, bring your kevlar and leave your valuables at the hotel ... and don't look Lou Lamariello in the eyes; you'll end up trading your plane ticket home for a Bon Jovi tape and the rights to Alex Mogilny.

Sens: "Well What the Hell Were We Supposed to Do?" Senators 4, Habs 2

If the Robinson family had been served an injustice in the way of time spent waiting for the long anticipated arrival of this day, all seemed forgiven at centre ice last night. And if Habs fans were afforded the luxury of reminiscing during the festivities, the Ottawa Senators made a quick point that that was then and that this was now.

As the banner bearing Robinson’s name and number took flight, you had to wonder if it gave an on-looking Jason Spezza a glimpse of what following a certain other number 19's climb to the rafters would feel like. In any case, he played as if those plans were on his mind.

In a perfectly fitting tribute that gave every Canadien the motivation and pretext to play inspired hockey for the one who helped build the mystique that surrounds this team, we were reminded that no NHLer could be unaffected by a moment of this magnitude. And so if all things remained equal and the ceremonies also heightened Ottawa’s passion for the game, the Habs were riding on wishful thinking if they hoped to punctuate this evening with a fitting conclusion.

No chance.

Although the Canadiens threw their insides at Ottawa early on, Martin Gerber turned everything aside. The Habs’ shooting gallery played the same trigger-happy game that saw them direct 52 shots at Boston’s Tim Thomas on Saturday. By the first period’s 13th minute, the Habs already had 14 shots; that made it 66 shots in their last 73 minutes of play. This time around, Montreal had nothing to show for it.

The Senators’ forwards responded in kind by giving the Habs’ defense corps fits in their own zone. They found ways to thread short passes through narrow corridors around Cristobal Huet’s crease. They found holes through the Montreal blueliners, and if the openings weren’t immediately there, they created them with incredible speed.

Talent won this game. Sure, inspiration can whip players into responsive, even eruptive states. But by nature, motivation fades and unyielding effort will come to the surface to claim the last word. By the time the Sens had made it 2-0 in the first, all residual effects of the Robinson ceremony had dried up. And Montreal was destined to play catch-up against the best team in the league.

You would expect that a perfect scenario paint a Montreal victory in extended logic of a memorable evening. These brittle hopes don’t work if the Senators are introduced into the story. Start the plotline anyway you want, but enter the Senators and it seems of late to only end one way: Sens win.

Sens win.

The Landscape of Loss: Sens 3 - Habs 1

For 54 minutes yesterday, the Montreal Canadiens reduced the Evil Empire that is the Ottawa Senators to an obedient colony. Then came the uprising.

The Putsch toppled a Canadiens grip that seemed to have taken too much out Les Glorieux by game's end. The strike came in the appearance of 3 goals in 6 minutes by a team unfazed by Montreal's determination to add a third defeat to the Sens' loss column. In this game of do or do not, there is no try, almost amounts to nothing. And so Montreal carried only pride aboard the bus down the eastern stretch of the Trans-Canada. They made it hard for Ottawa, an effort worthy of almost-satisfaction, but again almost doesn't pad the stats.

If the Habs didn't collect their harvest on this day, they may have planted a seed. A seed of doubt in the minds of the Senators who saw a team deliver the full package to Kanata.

As the Canadiens were coming out with the passion that transforms regular season play into playoff intensity, Cristobal Huet was slowly writing the storyline that was meant to see the Habs upset the Senators. As the simmering emotions enveloping this game rose to a furious boil, Huet was at the top of his craft foiling Ottawa's onslaught with unbelievable stops from all sides of the crease. After a beautiful save on a Daniel Alfredsson penalty shot, the game pried a jubilant fist pump out of a usually bland and unresponsive Huet who proved incapable of containing the excitement that had taken over this game.

Because don't fool yourselves, this was the best game of the season. Evenly matched teams led by sublime goaltending, solid defence, relentless forechecking, swift skating and a will to win.

The Canadiens showed that their record this season is one of merit. After yesterday's game they deserved more.

Let it be known, however, that despite what was beginning to look like another shutout performance for Huet, that is until Alfredsson's tally opened the gates, the Senators probably had every spectator in the building, in the country believing in what eventually happened: they could find a way to beat Montreal. In containing the natural talent to be found everywhere on a team performing at an improbable record setting cadence, the Canadiens' pace slowed to a point of physical and mental fatigue. Cue a tiring and predictive defensive shell that Ottawa soon found ways around. Followed by the Alfredsson marker that pinned the Habs on the ropes. Then came the Neil knockdown that caused irreparable damage to Montreal's fleeting hopes. The empty netter, an unnecessary reminder of what was amply evident, Ottawa will decide when and how a game ends no matter how close they are pushed to the edge.

Montreal pushed them close, but in doing so they also followed the Senators to the brink. And by that time, in the bat of an eyelash, Ottawa catapuled around Montreal and simply needed what seemed like a flick of a finger to send the Canadiens to their fatal fall.

Sens win. Get used to it.

Ouay Bounces Back: Habs 2 - Sabres El Zilcho

Someone slipped this compilation of hope springs eternal under Cristo's tear soaked pillow on Saturday night.

Hope, the belief in a positive outcome, or that after acting like an arrow pointing towards the net on one night, one can resist the urge to roll out the red carpet again for every shot directed on goal the next.

Maybe Cristobal was able to hear the frontal lobe combustion inducing "Ouay" pronunciation Bob Cole insisted on throughout the game. "What's that noise?"...you could almost hear the goalie ponder, searching out in the distance.

No such problems last night. No Cole. Needless to say however, no Briere, no Drury, no jump, no bite. The new Sabres, a suddenly toothless shark.

Not that the Habs were thaaaat much better. This shutout victory was painted on a canvass of maligned and blotchy plays. Both teams failed to generate enough offense to gain any momentum. Players were too busy retrieving pucks delivered to their skates, picking up broken sticks or pulling themselves back up after falling for reasons such as no reason whatsoever. Trap A versus Trap B. Devils 1994 against Devils 2001 (how's that for a redundancy). Jacques Lemaire in a Matrix-like rumble against a million other Jacques Lemaires.

Unchanged throughout this bedtime screenplay was the Finding Ryder storyline. If you don't mind leaving me alone with Mike for a second folks, thank you....OK Mike, we're alone now and we've got a few seconds to talk. I think you need to know that you signed a 1-year contract in August, that's 365 days. OK, so the problem Mike is that the agreement you signed lapses at the end of the season. Yeah, it really does. Would it be a major inconvenience to emerge from your coma until that time? Can we induce you out of it, because you seem a bit reluctant. Do you want me to apply a defibrillator to your chest cavity Mike? Should I stab your heart with a needle the way they did to Uma in Pulp Fiction? OK, sure, yeah think about it. You know, I'm just saying...

Despite the Ryder situation, the first line did manage to pressure the Sabres in their zone. It did become apparent during the game that Koivu and Higgins would benefit greatly in welcoming a player like Andrei Kostitsyn to the party. A case of wasted talent on any line other than the top two. Why Montreal coaches remain fixated on quarantining offensive rookies on lines 3 and 4 is beyond comprehension. Promoting defensive awareness in a player that needs to be unleashed to thrive only serves to shackle him. Let the kid run wild. Let him express himself. What is he going to create with Tom Kostopoulos? Titties on the first line, make it happen.

There isn't much to say about the Canadiens' offensive output last night. This was a game choreographed by two defensive minded coaches who once played a sterile and smothering style. No need to discuss then.

The Habs defense is becoming capriciously stingy. All three goals allowed against the Leafs were a product of luck or sub-par goaltending. In the previous game against Philadelphia, they allowed a goal on a weird bounce off a defender and another in the dying seconds of the game on a weak wrist shot that Huet would have wanted back. There are very few mistakes out there and it's becoming increasingly clear that the Canadiens have found a system that has made them difficult to pierce through. Last night was no different, so when the defence and the goalie are on the same wavelength, the result is usually going to be the shutout this team collectively manufactured against the stunted Sabres.

Engraver on Stand-by: Habs 5 - Bullies 2

A gem.

Last night, the Montreal Canadiens came up with a gem.

They dominated the Philadelphia Flyers in every aspect of the game. Speed, grit, hitting, fighting, goaltending, shooting, everything related to playing hockey.

Sure this Flyer sans Gagné team was a depleted version of the squad that has steered the sharpest turn out of mediocrity the NHL has seen this season to lead the Atlantic division. From worst to first, the Flyers came to Montreal under these headings.

But Montreal came prepared last night. Still sore from the Briere incident, the players needed to show Danny Boy that he erred in his assessment of Montreal's chances this year. And what resulted was the most convincing team effort this team has come up with this year and maybe in years.

They were swift coming out of their zone, with a defense corps lead by Hamrlik delivering perfect passes to the forwards all night. In this relay, these forwards carried the baton with creativity and purpose into the offensive zone. That means speed and skill.

Briere was booed thoroughly by the Montreal fans every time he hopped over the boards. They too have not forgotten and joined with the team in delivering a very special message to the now demonized once-was hero: you were wrong.

In this sound spanking, Montreal outshot Philadelphia 41-18 and they did so with balance, distributing their dominating ways evenly across the 3 periods. They played well with the lead, coming on stronger and stronger as the game wore on.

It's as good is it gets for this team. This is the Montreal Canadiens at their best. They definitely won't do it every night, but when they do produce a jewel of an effort such as yesterday's game, leave the skepticism and devil's advocate impulses be. Enjoy it.

It Kept Going and Going and Going...Habs 4 - Penguins 3 SO

The game that started at lightning speed for the Habs turned out to be the game that didn't want to end.

Blame the Mountain in the Igloo, Carey Price, who on this particular night, beyond the ability to tend goal and stare down the fiercest in the NHL, struck the skaters descending on him with a suddenly startling revelation: there's no room to shoot.

One by one, Penguins forwards and defenseman alike wound up producing a reel comprised mostly of shots gone wide. Eight of them. With Ice running through his veins, the crease in the Igloo proved the perfect locale for the rookie in the only NHL rink that has given him victory.

That was the great news.

The good news was the 3-0 lead the Habs had jumped to early in the second period. For the second time in two nights, the Suddenly Susan Montreal offence chased the starting home goaltender. At 3-0, the Habs' streak had seen them manufacture a 20-7 rout of the opposition over a span of 3 games and cambio. We have seen this team come out of the starting blocks in convincing fashion in the past. We have seen them put together a surprising string of wins to mount improbable playoff pushes. However, what we have never seen them do is blow the opponents out of the water night in, night out. The Montreal Canadiens of late (Habs Thesaurus 2007: "of late" = since 1979) don't inflict damage, they find ways to win, and squeak out victories within the context of one-goal outcomes. Now all of a sudden it's 6-1 here and 5-1 there and Montreal is powerhousing around. They get to meet the other team's backup goalie midway through a game. They no longer require blood thinners late in the third to alleviate the stress. And suddenly the fans who have been watching this strange occurrence all along realize that stars are aligning in ways they had long forgotten. This soon makes them come to terms with the right word amidst the mounting intrigue: wow.

But good things don't last forever. And so, reluctantly, the other shoe began its descent in the second period when Crosby must have realized, "Hey, I'm freakin' Sidney Crosby", and decided to do something about it. What Sid did was make it a game.

And for an odd reason another Pens-Habs tilt yielded inspiring hockey. Yet again. And who's complaining, besides the eight little Penguinas that could not find the correct turns around the Grand Prix.

Maybe Alex Kovalev has reason to complain. Game 1001 delivered a concoction of soft, dipsy-doodly, dispassionate play. He took a bad penalty that lead to a goal and fueled the Penguins' drive. By the end of the third, Pittsburgh had been skating the Canadiens into submission. The Pens'skill started to show, much like the lactic acid that had begun slowing the strides in Montreal on this, the tail end of back to back games.

In the end though, a back to back away equation produced a four point formula. Andrei Markov's slick backhand through a formidable Sabourin saw to that. Even if it did take 16 skaters in the shootout to write that ending. We must note however that eight of this Sweet Sixteen probably found this particular finale quite bitter.

The Sky is Falling: Leafs 4 Habs 3 (OT)

So not only do the Habs lose to the Laffs, but they (once again) blow a lead going into the third, this time allowing the Leafs to comeback from a 3-1 deficit. The turning point was Huet mishandling the puck toards the end of the second period, leading directly to Podnikawhatsky's goal.

It was the Leafs first win of the year, sparing Toronto Mayor the indignity of having to call in the military to quell a Leafs Nation uprising (can you imagine being a Leafs fan after losing twice to the Sens AND then to the Habs in one week??). Leafs fans can now sleep easier, confident that Tomas Kaberle is clearly headed to his first Norris Trophy this season thanks to his OT winner, while Vesa Toskala is now the obvious favorite for the Vezina after his first win.

The Tits: The Habs earn a point on the road. Breezer plays the second least minutes on D. Big Tits (our new name for Andrei - allowing us to call Sergei "Little Tits") scores his first of the season, along with Markov and El Dandy, who is looking comfortable up front.

The cellulite: Grabby losing all 5 of his faceoffs. Gui getting barely over 10 minutes in ice time. Huet handling the puck. Listening to Ron MacLean, Bob Cole, Harry Neale and Don Cerise openly cheering for the Leafs. (Oh wait, I watch RDS HD. Still bitter, though.)

The armpit hair: Losing to the Laffs. Obviously.

Chez Paree bound? Although it's humiliating losing to a team like the Leafs, earning a point on the road shouldn't be overlooked. No free dances, though - the Habs are paying at the door and in the back tonight.

2.5 Lap Dances (out of 10): We realized the Habs wouldn't go 82-0, but FOR THE LOVE OF GOD at least beat the freakin' Leafs.

NEXT UP: Wednesday against Sid and the Pens in the Burgh. We hope Pensblog brings the smack so we can make fun of how old Gary Roberts is. (Roberts is so old, he's the one who handed David the stone for his slingshot. I didn't say we'd bring good smack.)

Plan the Parade: Habs 3 - Carolina 2 OT

Superman wears Saku Koivu pyjamas.
-HF10

The Captain was fantastic.

The goaltender was scintillating.

The power play clicked.

Streit was fabulous.

The PK Subban was inpenetrable.

The Habs won.

Dammit, the Habs won!

So much to rejoice over in this win. It was a great game to watch. It featured saves than span the unbelievable to unfathomable ends of the spectrum.

The Koivu line fulfilled expectations. They played loose. They created chances. They skated hard through the middle and basically set the offensive tempo. Higgins and Ryder were not quite as revved as Saku on this night, but they could have had a couple of goals each last night. That's encouraging.

Grabovski seemed a bit overwhelmed in this, his NHL debut. That line was powered by a Kovalev who's deft moves are still there to a)drive opposing defenders crazy b)make Christmas come early for opposing defenders. Whatever the case, in his sleek stick handling attempts, he continues to dazzle. Remember this: The Dance à 10 Line (thanks LG77!) with its two youngsters can ONLY GET BETTER.

Plekanec had a beautiful game last night. He was excellent on the back check. He caused several turnovers in which he was able to retrieve the puck and create a threat the other way. He needs to find some chemistry with Latendresse though; the two rarely connected for anything tangibly interesting.

Of course Saku was the player of the game, but give full marks to Huet who turned in a very convincing performance and Streit who showed so much last night that he will make it very hard for Carbonneau to use him as the revolving door poster boy he has been in the past. If last night was any indication, Streit will not move from the blue line.

You have to like what the boys did last night. They beat the Canes in their home opener, they did it in Carolina, territory that has been more hostile to the Habs than a Rutgers Women's Basketball Alumni reunion would to Don Imus.

The power play created nice chances near the crease and the team made better use of its wingers with the Souray factor having been subtracted from the equation. Markov's cross-ice pass to the slot on Koivu's first goal was such a convincing display of awareness.

The defence pairings worked well together. Brisebois was surprisingly good and you can bet the house that most fans are leaving the jury out on him for now. Sure he coughed up the puck up the middle, more than once, but on the whole he didn't play like the second coming of Daniel Day Lewis in My Left Foot. MC Hamrlik's debut was a bit of a bust, and that kind of sucks because he made $ 67 o73.17 last night. Just thought you should know.

The Leafs. They're next in line.