(How I plan to watch tomorrow's game)
Conversation between me and Mr. LG77 during dinner (turkey leftovers, natch) at 6:35 last night:
Me: By the way, I have to recap tonight's game for FHF.
Him: Do we really have to watch that shit? I wanna play Call of Duty. Less of a bloodbath.
Me: Yeah, well, they may not suck tonight. They've sucked way too many games in a row, eventually their luck has gotta change, right?
Him: But didn't you just finish telling me that you had a shitty day? Watching that game is going to be like work for both of us - no fun, just pain. 60 minutes of pain.
Me: We don't normally suck for all 3 periods...
Him: Fine. Here's your fucking recap. Habs played. They lost. They suck. Is this fucking road trip over yet?
Me: God, you're such a pessimist...
During the first period and the leadup to the game, I was so fucking positive, it was nauseating. I mean, Cheez Whiz (Whizzer? Jizzer? Jury's still out on the nickname for me) was doing a ridiculously endearing interview with Pierre Houde at first, and I was thinking that maybe he was the gel that was missing for our beleaguered D-corps.
Then I heard that Cedric Desjardins was getting his first NHL start against the CH and I thought "Oh, fuck. Not another French Canadian goalie." (PS - great coaching decision by Boucher to shield his ass from the Mtl media feeding frenzy before the game)
Then the first period happened and HOLY FUCKING SHIT - we were playing well! Fewer dumping line changes, energy and speed through the neutral zone. I was thinking maybe the Habs were going to have a solid game...
And then the second period happened. I should have known that the Universe was just setting me up for a shitstorm of Biblical proportions.
Two too-many-men penalties in the span of a minute?? Are you fucking shitting me? That is an epic brain fart, akin to O'B's own goal against the Islanders. Symptom of the stink emanating from behind the bench... even if hockey is more difficult to coach than other sports due to the speed and fluidity of the game - LEARN TO FUCKING COUNT, COUNT CHOCULA.
Here's a primer, Jacques:
I don't give a shit whether it's Pearn or Muller who is in charge of the PK/line changes/basic fucking math, the buck stops with the expressionless dude behind the bench. Fin.
And that, ladies and gentlemen was the beginning of the end for the Habs last night. After that momentum killing bullshit, they looked disorganized, disjointed, dispirited and, well, fucking dead.
Dear Montreal Canadiens: my grandparents are coming with me to see the Habs game on Sunday. They live in Quebec City. Going to a hockey game with my grandpa has been a lifelong dream of mine, and I finally get to go with him on Sunday.
Please, please, please, please, PLEASE, PLEASE at least show up and put up a fight. A win would clearly be too much to hope for at this point, I realize that. But, please... just make a fun game of it. It's all I ask.
Discussion at the end of the game:
Him: Told you it would be like work.
Me: Sigh.
*****************
Oh, fuck, there's another train wreck tonight? Great. Just peachy.
I would set this up like a real game preview, but seeing as the team can't be bothered to put any effort forward on the ice, why should I bother putting any effort in previewing teh suck?
Game is at 5:00. In Florida. Sucks even more to be us - at least the Habs are getting some sunshine prior to the game. At least they have the decency to play the game early so that we can all go about our lives again afterwards.
You know, a win would be anti-climactic at this point. Kinda like the ex-boyfriend or girlfriend who comes to try to win you back after they killed your self-esteem for a year. Sure, it's nice at the time, but the disappointment still lingers.
Thanks, Habs. 2010 had been a great year until you coughed up a hairball in December.
Disappointed? Vengeful? Hating your ex? Filled with meh? Ring in the new year with us in the Comments. Oh, you can talk about the game too, I guess.
