The action is beer-league slow now. Except Gionta. Oil streak slick on a southern chalk surface.
It’s insidious when it becomes worse to cry wolf than to, in fact, be the wolf.
Canadiens poem. Cammalleri.
Halcyon. And the hitting increases. Crowd is blister and banana. Apes in heat. Whistle reduces the rabble.
Canadiens poem. Scott Gomez.
Milbury pisses me off with his talk of hard-nosed Team Canada forwards as we see his picks and CBC gets the mute for the first time tonight. Milbury’s team is missing Toews. Glenn Healey’s picks look like a faster team. Are we going to get embarrassed on the world stage again? Get ready, we look as if we’ll lack speed, skill and class. What’s left that can win it? Goaltending, defence, intimidation and home ice advantage. Might be enough. Is that how you want to win?
Canadiens poem. AK 46.
Canadiens poem. Equipment poem.
I think I’m about 20-22 commercials away from cheering against Team Canada. As usual. Will they lay off already? And then the homer announcing is going to start. Can they at least try to be balanced? Just try?
The apologists for fighting are legion in hockey. Nothing of the sort in MLB, NBA and NFL ranks. Somehow the culture of lugs hasn’t survived as well in those leagues. Plenty of morons in those ranks as well but the reffing and the culture of violence is far worse in hockey. Yeah, I’m throwing the reffing in there. Wanna go?
Centennial Poem. March 17th dominance.
Montreal Canadiens Centennial Poem.
Canadiens Today - The respected Doctor Rick took time from his taxing intellectual pursuits and guested for us today via email. He is based in Montreal.
Highlights. Sean Avery still has an NHL job. Well, nobody should complain about anyone else, then. Free passes for all. It’s interesting that Ovechkin’s celebrations get more anger than Avery’s antics. Measure it yourself. Google and count the hits. Or bring up the players in living rooms or pubs. See for yourself.
Gill looks like a bubble gum boy (a tall one) as he stands and smiles, disappointed with the penalty call against him. He keeps looking up at the scoreboard screen for the replay. He needs to decide how he really feels. Montreal will go to the penalty-kill without one of their first-pairing defenders. Gill has been getting a lot of PK responsibility.
Canadiens blurb. BP Nation.
Buffalo’s site, like many NHL sites for American-based teams, has a “Buy This” entry page and you can only enter the site by clicking the ad. I feel shrugged-shoulder about it. Selling tickets makes sense. But aesthetics count. And so does soft selling. It’s complex, eh.
Goalie poem. Canadiens poem. Too much Joe-Po.
On Montreal ice. Below the hash. Puck is moving without challenge. Montreal is watching again. Tired? It’s Moen and Plekanec. And now Atlanta will score. Pass goes to the slot. Shot. It should have gone in. Price got over there. Like a Flintstone rolling. Whatever works. What a save. Thrashers feel robbed. Shoulders slump. Commercial break will extend that feeling for the blue boys.
Canadiens poem.
Price’s positioning is prescient panther. Great saves as the puck moves on long lines, always the hypotenuse when Crosby passes. His pucks stretch vectors, make Tron victims of defenders.
Cronyism can cripple an organization leaving it with a few too many silver-haired, quarterback types, those easy-smiling, ornamental charmers who pat bums, wink at customers, win unexpectedly large client accounts but who eventually get caught embezzling, nuzzling, lying or worse.
Bergeron goes down the right side to start the team. He moves in on pad and crease. Whack. Goes out. Andrei. Raises his hands like Superman. Smiles like a vacationer.
The Flyers are a poor team and we are playing worse than they are. Philadelphia can’t pass, can’t skate and can’t commit to this game. And the Canadiens, far more skilled and professional in their attitude are about even in time of possession. Really shameful.
Flames poem.
Canadiens poem. Scouting.
Centennial Game. Brunet says the Canadiens have shown a lot of character tonight. I agree. It’s not easy to play well and play a mortal’s game on a night when mortals are perceptually immortalized. But if one sees enough of these celebrations, one becomes impervious to them, I’ll venture.
Nice job helping your backup goaltender. Seven, eight, maybe ten, maybe twelve guys are picking and choosing their times to exert and when to relax. It’s an art. Like the cab driver who catches all the reds and pretends he’s driving the Queen’s Cadillac stretch and slows for every speed bump. Wow. What an important vehicle you must own, sir. Are you protecting your expensive shock absorbers?
Canadiens poem.
Jacques is in an all-brown costume. Velour-looking jacket and near turtleneck without the turtle part. Tip-top friendly. Demers reminds us that the last time the Canadiens played Toronto, Kaberle had four points.