The Diachronic Barber Pole Observations of a Recovering Hockey Exile

Montreal Canadiens vs. Boston Bruins

March 24, 2011, by Homme De Sept-Iles

Musings and In-Game Scribbles

My English is as good as yours, I just write these in a stream-of-consciousness mode that I insist excuses me from small things like rules of grammar or general etiquette. Let’s call it conversational English, hopped up on beans. You know what kind of beans (no, Carl Mellesmoen, not the magic ones).

Montreal Canadiens (40-27-7) visit Boston Bruins (40-22-10)

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Game Seventy-Five (score posted following scribbles)

Missed it? Musings capture the game in writing. A written transcript typed during the game, posted and edited about thirty minutes afterward.  Based on the RDS French telecast of the Montreal Canadiens game, Musings take about 20 minutes to read. More detailed than an article, fresher than a looping highlight and good with morning coffee. Or late-night chocolate.  A unique way to re-experience the game.

click here to expand post (it looks prettier)

 

Reseau des Sports interviews a doctor prior to the game regarding Pacioretty’s injury.  Several medical points are made including that the impact of Pacioretty’s thrust against the stanchion, as propelled by Boston defenceman Zdeno Chara, was equivalent to falling five metres.

Mark Recchi claimed on Boston radio earlier this week that he felt that Pacioretty and the Canadiens were “embellishing” the hit and its results.

Yes.  He’s Doctor Recchi, now.

It’s mildly puzzling, fairly surprising but more disappointing than anything.  Recchi, a once-respected member of the Canadiens and likely Hall of Famer has altered that perception and will now have to live with what he said.

Spin can only do so much.

Should character be considered a criterion for the Hall of Fame?  The Hall of Fame is, overall, an absurd practice in any league and loses what integrity it has because there is so little science to any league’s approach to induction.  In fact, in most leagues, media members are entitled to vote.  Of course, that (among the other problems with the process) is a conflict of interest issue.

Valerie Sardin does her pub question thingie and interviews a young twenty-something fella who successfully names three of the seven “Brians” in Canadiens history.  He gets a small cash prize.  Sardin continues to be a disturbing character.  New on the scene this season, she bears monitoring.

Pierre Houde interviews Montreal head coach Jacques Martin.  Houde asks him if it’s difficult with all the social media (Twitter, Facebook and so forth) and if the resulting media furor makes it difficult to keep the players focused.  Not at all, answers Martin and provides some diplomatic reasons.  His answer complete, he displays an expression I’ve come to associate with pained men of integrity following a circumvention.

Pierre evokes a genuine Martin smile in closing with the comment; I wish you a good game of hockey, emphasis on the term hockey.  As opposed to a good game of fighting and other nonsense.

The NHL in anticipating this “blood-match” have assigned two of their more experienced refs and reports out of Boston suggested that commissioner Gary Bettman (who was awarded a five-year 7.2 million dollar per season deal last fall by his bosses, the NHL governors) had spoken with a member of the Boston brass and specifically ordered that their team concentrate on hockey.

Some of the more thoughtful Montreal voices are expecting “tight checking hockey” with a minimum of fuss.  Seems likely.

Mike Cammalleri may or may not have commented on Recchi’s words but a Bruin blog came up with the following.

Spirited forward Mathieu Darche is back in the lineup.  So are trusty Jeff Halpern, Tomas Plekanec and blue-line newcomer Brent Sopel.

Chara is the headline but the game will be an ordinary one.  Canadiens have won nine of the last eleven meetings against Boston and when playing low-turnover, low penalty hockey, Montreal is a slam-dunk for a win.

Denis Gauthier is wearing the clothing of a devil’s assistant.  The modern devil, eh.  Red dress shirt, black and red tie and charcoal jacket.

Joel has a 1982 look going.

Tomas Kaberle is discussed by Joel Bouchard; no goals and five assists in his first fourteen games as a Bruin.  Bouchard adds that it takes time to adjust to a new team, a new system.

Bouchard says that Boston needs to play a good game and show the NHL that, yes, they can play and win a key game on the ice.  He adds that in recent times, the Bruins have broken when it comes to the big game.

Their defeat against the Flyers in last spring’s playoffs comes to mind.  The Bruins led three games to none, a deficit that had only been surmounted twice to that point (in 1942 and 1975).  The Bruins allowed a third such surmounting.  The Flyers went on to the finals.

It’s harder to like the Bruins in March of 2011 as compared to March of 2010 but these things ebb and flow.  Mostly it’s ebb.  Or.  Hm.  Is it flow?

Carey Price and Tim Thomas start in net.  Dan O’Halloran and Dan O’Rourke are the refs.

First Period

Lars Eller, Mathieu Darche and Andrei Kostitsyn start.  The Big B is shown and the puck is dropped.  Eller and Darche are in and chasing.  Darche is interfered with as he chases the puck but it’s a body-check and he’d recently touched the puck.  Refs let it go.

Mara and Sopel are underneath.

Boston entry.  Nathan Horton.  Around the net.  Krejci checks a Montreal defender.

Puck goes to the blue.  Across.  Boychuk advances and pockets an unexpected distance shot from the short side.  Lucic may have been successful in screening Price.

This is Boychuk’s second goal of the season.

Boston 1, Montreal 0

I smile and shake my head.

Gomez line.  Gionta and Moen with him.  One entry.  Chara and Gionta face one another, the puck between them.  Gionta is cautious but digs it out.  Cross-slot pass misses all.

Subban advances.  Left side.  Weak backhander but a rebound to the slot.  Desharnais can’t shoot.

Stoppage seconds later.

Pace is cautious.  But the spaces are more apparent than in the Buffalo game.

Boston is nervous.  And their fear of making a mistake produces more mistakes.  Small ones.

Seventeen minutes to go in the first.

Darche goes to the net.  Kostitsyn down the right.  Flying.  Darche takes a light stick to the face.  Puck is under the end line.  And now a stoppage.  No decent chances.

Faceoff to Thomas’ right.

The teams a long puck behind the Montreal end line.

Lucic is on for Boston.  Subban starts from behind his net.

Montreal entry.  Sudden pass to the slot.  Houde climbs.  But no sticks reply.

Faceoff to Thomas’ left.

Bergeron wins it.  To the corner.  Doctor Recchi has it at the hash.  Turnover.  Two chances and an infraction.  Boston.  Called for tripping.

Seidenberg’s pass resulted the turnover.  Fanned and lost his stick.  It was a penalty he had to take.

Montreal power.

Plekanec on the right pint.  Wisniewksi on the other.

Kostitsyn, Desharnais and Cammalleri are the first wave.

One decent shot from Cammalleri.  Brad Marchand approaches Cammalleri after the whistle and murmurs some unbright thing or other.  Cammalleri has none of it and like a witch yapples and raises venom eyebrows.

Nothing further.

Seventy seconds in the penalty and Montreal retrieves.  Hamrlik.  Gomez, Gionta and Darche.  To the point.  Across.  Subban blasts it off glass.

It’s back to Subban.  Fakes.  Passes.  Back to Subban.  One-timer.  Hits a leg.

Boston exits.

Kelly is knocked into the post as he drives the net.

Crowd loves it.

Hamrlik.  A non-descript woman behind Martin sits seemingly uncomprehending.  But of what.

We go to fours.  Holding was the call.

Krejci and Plekanec faceoff to Price’s right.  Won by Plekanec.

Kept in on the blue.  From under the end line, Montreal blasts it along the boards.

Boston penalty ends.

Bruins get about ninety seconds of power.

First entry is rebuffed at the blue.

Second entry sees five players in the corner but another quick clearing play by Montreal.  Thomas must play it.  And a second time.

Under a minute.

Kaberle starts them out.  Short pass to his left for Bergeron.  He wrists it along the boards but it’s caught and cleared.

Marchand tries a weak shot on the next entry.  Price turns it away.  Puck moves to the boards.  Back to the blue.  Doctor Recchi tries a long shot.  Nope.

And it’s out again.

And with the penalty expiring, a long Ryder shot is repelled by Price to his right and into the sideboards.

Eller carries.  Over the blue.  Sends it along, turns his man and goes to find it under the Boston end line.  But he can’t retain.

Price gloves a mild puck on the other end.  Holds it.

Eleven minutes.

Desharnais, White and Pouliot are on.  Price closes a glove and sees the unpleasant Chris Kelly slow to a halt to his left.

We resume and Pouliot manages a backhand lifter to get the team time to change lines.  Gomez line.

Hamrlik and Wisniewski low.

Seidenberg is on for Boston alongside Kaberle.  Krejci line up top.

Thomas gloves down and holds it.  Mild bumping.  Moen.  Chara.  Refs are there.  Thomas skates out of his net to the high slot where he takes a knee, his back to the jostling.

Officials clear it up and some ice dawgs come out to shovel some debris away.

Ah, Boston.

It’s springtime.

Cammalleri has to take the draw deep right.

Subban low.  To Plekanec, wheeling in the neutral zone.  Montreal entry.  Plekanec is in, shooting.

Some jibber, jabber talk follows.  Both Thomas and Plekanec, far away from one another, are lip-flapping.  Thomas wears a smile.

Faceoff.

Halpern, Cammalleri and Plekanec, the old combo is still on.

Horton checks Subban.  Puck leaves.  Both players stay standing and leave the corner at Price’s left.

Boston ice.

Out.

Back in.  Darche.  Over the blue.  To Eller.  Long shot.  Thomas drops and handles it, looking a bit like Tony O.  The closed pads.

Stoppage.

I can’t stand Tony O.

Another stoppage.

Former Black Hawk goalie Tony Esposito called Mario Lemieux a frog while the former was a GM early in Lemieux’ career with the Penguins, the 1988-89 season.

It’s in Lawrence Martin’s book, Mario.  Published in 1993 by Ballantyne Books.  It’s on page 166 of the paperback edition.

Ok.  Here’s part of it:  “But Mario never expected to be called “frog” to his face by the manager of his team … “I think it was the most souring point in his career.  Mario couldn’t understand how anybody could downgrade his nationality, especially when they were all hockey players … [But] Esposito didn’t like French-Canadians.  He made sure Mario knew that.”

The big wharf horn goes.

Boston control.  One long shot.  V-angle.  To the other point.  Off Campbell.  Off Gill.  Through Price’s pads.

Even the air smells like the playoffs.

Boston 2, Montreal 0

Price makes a Steve Austin save.  What else.  Bionic.  Left leg and the crowd sound.

Penalty.

Nathan Horton took a stick to the face.  He’s down.  Boston man-advantage.

Horton is in the trainer’s room.  I hope his eyes are ok.  Of course.

Boston power.

Four minute penalty.

Seguin with a high shot.  Over everything.  Off the glass and still in play.

PA announcer hurts the speakers with a loud whoo in making some announcement or other.  The goal announcement?

Under five in the period.  Under three in the penalty.

Doctor Recchi passes to the crease.  Handled.

Now Marchand at the right hash.  To the blue.  Seidenberg.  High shot.  Gomez and Gionta are waiting for a hoped-for line change.  They all slow.  Boston needs to put the pressure on but they aren’t.

They allow Montreal to stand around and get their collective breath.  Now Price splays across for as beautiful a save as you’ll see tonight.  Left to right, pad down.  Small miracle.  Because the net was open and Gill and Subban were doomed, standing.

They clear.

The lines change.

Boston works it around.  Lucic with a high shot.

Lucic.  Pass to the low slot.  Mara falls, puck bounces off him and onto a stick.  The wrong stick.  Horton.  In the net.

Hey, was Horton embellishing?  Hey.  Hey.

Doctor Recchi, could I have a word?

Boston 3, Montreal 0

Two and a half and neither Pierre nor Benoit are being sarcastic.  They express concern and keep emphasizing the hockey elements, the on-ice elements.

Nothing matters, Pierre says but the Canadiens skill response.  I’m inferring a bit.

Habs pressure.  Brief.   Pouliot has a chance to take someone’s head off but chooses an ordinary check instead.

Thomas gloves down again in the low slot.

Spray of snow.  Subban is deep again.

Faceoff.

Chara leaves the ice.  Gomez wins the draw.  Moen makes sure of it.  But the puck is lost by Gomez behind the Boston net.  Moen flies out to make another difference.  Valiant attempt but the Bruins are able to fly out.

Montreal ice.  Lasts three seconds.  No passes, no shots.

Boston ice.  Kostitsyn.  A move, a look and bumped off the puck by Chara.  Boston homeboys love it.  It’s all legit, besides.

I shake my head.  Zdeno Chara has a short, very bright fuse.  It doesn’t get lit often but when it does, a man could die.  It’s hard to forgive his deliberate gesture of one match ago.  But I know he isn’t normally like that.

Unfortunately, short fuse or not, we are accountable for our actions.

Period ends.

Boston led on shots 18-8.

First Intermission
Boston 3, Montreal 0

Montreal has what it takes to come back but with a three-goal lead, Boston can relax and do what they do best, play defensive hockey.  It all adds up to a 5-2 final in my head.  But I’m always wrong in these sorts of things.

Francois is wearing a Kermit green dress shirt.  Boston reprimanded Mark Recchi, says Francois.  He says that they will not go public with it.  Alain adds that Recchi drew a lot of attention away from the other players.  Gagnon smiles and says yes, this is true.

Seems a silly way to draw attention.  Doesn’t it.

Doctor Recchi.

Second Period
Boston 3, Montreal 0

Thomas leaves a puck and Darche with his usual want gets around a man that should have been there first.

Peverley around the Price fort.  Tries the wrap-jam.  No.

Plekanec bumps a man deep.  Boston exits nonetheless.

The teams exchange failed entries and then Cammalleri dumps it in for a change.

Boston controls.  Thornton.  In the corner.  Sopel advances and forces the turnover.

Sopel.  Moen.  Gionta.  Gomez.  Gill.  Mara.  Halpern.  Wisniewski.  In many ways this team is very much equipped for the playoffs.  Not to mention Hamrlik, Darche, White and Cammalleri.  Playoff style players, all.  Plekanec had his first enervating playoff last season.  I expect more of the same.

Gionta.  Careless one-hand exit.  Direct turnover.  A shot, a pass, a shot.  And Montreal survives.  Price.

Around the boards.  To the neutral zone.  Kelly tries a shot and has his stick lifted.

Turnover to Kaberle.  Pass.  Habs flounder.  They increase the speed and close to the puck.  And it’s out.

Brief puck melee inside the Boston blue.  And out again.  Now a whistle on a puck infraction.

The game is ordinary, the crowd chastened.

Centre ice.

Cammalleri wins it.  Stays in the neutral zone.  Now they chase it.

Two on one, sudden.  Lucic to the net.  Opening.  Puck bounces over his stick.

Lucic holds White and it goes uncalled.

What happened to the “let’s keep the game close” philosophy?  So cherished by NHL refs.  Hmmm?  What happened?  What happened?

Dan O’Halloran.  Born in Essex, Ontario.  Dan O’Rourke.  Born in Calgary, Alberta.

As Russell Peters might say, what do you think?

We resume.

Subban takes a puck around his net.  Quick outlet pass up the middle.  Behind Thomas’ net.  Pouliot.  Kostitsyn.

Pouliot takes it on a high curve and keeps as he makes a clock of it.  And backhands a weak, easy shot that Thomas gloves.  He smiles after this one, too.

Is he smiling after each one?

The day will come when each player will have a cam centred on him.  And the viewer can be as creepy as he wants with his fly-eye choices.

Here’s a chance.  Puck floops high on a Gionta backhand.  Awkward right-side fall and grab-at-the-post flunker.  In his net, Thomas reminds us how much we miss the unorthodox goalie.

I find myself following his movements fascinatedly for a few moments.

Adverbs.  I know.  Personal adverbs.

This process can’t be good for anything.  Can it.

Twelve.

Well, someone has to be inaccessible and self-indulgent.  No?

I commend all my readers.  They’re resolute.  And they probably enjoy crosswords and sudoku.  And the like.

Eleven.

Pierre calls this the best chance tonight.  Gomez’ backhand shot leaves a big rebound from close in.  But Moen can’t do it.

Some Habs fans are shown.  Young girls with a sense of urgency that, uh, certain Canadiens might do well to emulate.  I’m not going to name names at this point.

In the old days?  Christopher Higgins and Matt D’Agostini would have been named.

But it’s the new days, now.  And Michael Cammalleri works harder than either of those two, anyway.

He now gives one away as he rounds his own net.  Price gloves it.

Cammalleri’s cavalier backhand led to a direct but weak skill-free backhander from the old commissioner’s grandson.  Whose dad is a bit slippery.

Boston power.  Gomez penalty is called.

In other games, if Montreal was leading, you can be sure that penalties would be going in another direction.  And, unfortunately, for those who might cry “homer”, I’m right.

Regional differences do affect this game.  It’s hard to admit.  It was a sad shock.  But hey.  Apparently, this issue is actually dealt with effectively in FIFA, traditionally one of the more corrupt international sports leagues.  Arguably the most corrupt.

Some trouble created by Boston.  A player goes to the net.  Helps Price.

One deadly shot.  Another.

Boston keeps it in.  Sopel and Halpern do great work.  Why is Cammalleri on the ice?  Punishment?

Price stops a final shot and the bumping begins.  Mara is involved.  Unafraid.  Rasping and growling like a dwarf after the fray.  Making promises.  It was with Recchi.  Neither guy would back off.  But Recchi wasn’t as brave as he is against, um, certain other players.

Houde has a sympathetic, laughing sentence in support for Recchi.

The Boston Medicine Man.

Julien is befuddled and asks about the call.  Palm out, face reddening, he just about slips two notches.  But calms himself.

We go to fours.

What.  No.  It’s a man-advantage for Boston.

One Price save.  Bumped the puck ahead with the biscuit.  Ping-pong shield.

Missed pass and the puck escapes.

Back in.  Subban is falling.  Lucic is swinging.  But the puck stays safe.

Under seven.  Ninety in the penalty.  Or so.

Lucic chases it down.  Around the boards.  Horton, turns and protects.  To the blue.  Across.  Back to Chara.

Muzzle shot.

Price is low and the rebound is cleared.  It was wobbling in the low slot.

Canadiens are playing with all of the urgency needed.  Boston is firing and going after the knockout punch.  Where was this zest last in the first?

Ah well.

One more possession.

Seidenberg.  Price makes the first save.  And the rebound is cleared again.

What good work from both teams.

Four minutes.

Subban and Wisniewski.  Low.

I prefer deserved outcomes and I’ve become good at accepting the results of process.  But tonight, I’m asking for a gift.

It starts with the letter “W”.

I watch and wish.  And then a turnover.  Gionta has it alone.  Waits.  Pauses.  Passes.  And it’s in legs.

And now a penalty. Against Montreal.  Martin’s expression is not hard to read this time.

Break.

Gomez.  Holding.

Brunet says he liked Gionta’s play.

Boston power.

Mild to warm.

Now a Price clear-up is blocked.

Shots come.  Faster.  And Price gets across in near slo-mo for a shot even slower.  But because of the opening, much more dangerous than the previous few.

Forty seconds.

Some Boston bungling but they keep it in.  Gill bumps Doctor Recchi off the puck.

Recchi is going to get bumped off a few more pucks.

Mara goes after Campbell.  Campbell knows he’s in trouble.  Mara is one of the more frightening men in hockey.  He’s so serious.  It’s all in his bear-glint eye.

That’s a dad you don’t want to hear rumbling down into the basement.  As you scramble to hide the, uh, blowtorch.  The matches?  In the furnace?

The fight is a series of single punches.  Martin raises his head somewhat following the bout.  Julien’s civilized manner can’t be ignored.  Neither man is old-school.  But they’re stuck in a game, a league, that is.

Period ends.  Boston led 11-6 on shots.

Second Intermission
Boston 3, Montreal 0

Alain says that the new (returning) players were surprises as additions, especially Plekanec and adds that none have had a big impact.

Joel agrees and goes to video.   The ugly first goal is shown.  Then a missed blocked shot attempt.  Plekanec was off the lane a bit and Joel excuses it saying that normally Plekanec would have been the foot over needed.  Bouchard then adds that Halpern also had some mistakes.

I’ve never really mulled over the Quebec pronunciation of Thrashers.  It comes out “trashers”.  I guess one might guess why I haven’t mulled this over.

Well, if they won more, maybe I’d look at it differently.

My sympathies to those hard-core Atlanta hockey fans that must exist by now.  Being a hockey fan in Atlanta is more admirable than being a hockey fan in, say, Montreal.  It’s a choice in Atlanta.

And not an easy one.

Third Period
Boston 3, Montreal 0

Ok.  A careless team, a team that doesn’t have the close-out instinct could lose this game.  The Canucks come to mind.  Is Boston the Vancouver Canucks of the Eastern Conference?

There are some insulting premises in the preceding.  I don’t mean to be (too) rude but I genuinely wonder.

Boston manages the first serious rush but Recchi’s cross-ice pass is intercepted.

Gionta on the right.  Takes the drop-pass from Gomez and brightfires the disc.  But Thomas holds on and doesn’t give up a rebound.  Houde utters a remark of admiration and adds that Thomas hasn’t given up rebounds tonight.

Another stoppage.

Subban is on low.

Plekanec.  Outside the blue.  Brunet wonders at Plekanec percentitude.  Ok, ok.  He says that Plekanec may not be at one hundred percent.

Rush is neutralized in middle ice as the puck floops over into the bench area.

Another Thomas stoppage.

And Montreal’s upped ante is matched by Boston’s little tea party.

Montreal is on power.

Not much.  Boston is blocking shots, advancing and showing all the effort needed.

But the moment they lapse a good chance comes.  Too casual leaving the hash, is Dr. Recchi, and a shot nearly caroms in.

More sympathetic chuckling from Houde.  Something I missed.

Boston two on one.

Horton finishes it.  Top of the net bulges.

A regal Boston fan stands, hair plastered back, in an older piano leather Bruins jacket and claps a prim little sequence.  He’s about fifty-nine.  He doesn’t smile and something about him is Italian.

Boston is a serious town, yo.

Boston 4, Montreal 0

So.  You give up a goal to Nathan Horton.  Two.  So.  Nothing is deserved here.

Faceoff to Price’s right.  Krejci and Plekanec.  Won by Boston.  To the blue.  Across.  Shot.  Deflection.

In.  Urgh.

Auld comin’ in.  Auld comin’ in.

<Step aside I’m a doctor, step aside.>  Oh, wait.

Boston 5, Montreal 0

False confidence can help a lot of things.

But the road to spring (of spring?) won’t curve this way.  Will it.

Auld, sporting the number 35, takes his spot.  Price leaves.  Auld is Montreal’s backup goalie.

Brunet says that the game on Saturday, the only so-called tough game left in the schedule is important.

I feel like going home.

Except.  Well.

From my couch in Toronto, Price looks mildly upset but not distraught.  He doesn’t like losing, though.

Montreal makes a man grow up a bit fast.  Crammed lightning.

In some cases.

Fourteen.

Sometimes it’s just cram.

Boston crowd appears to be chanting USA-USA-USA.  Ok, then.

I forgot how jingoistic the post-Bush America can be.  Even more than pre-Bush, shall we say.

Oh, those Frenchies.

If only you could understand what is said about you, jingos.  Progressives exempted from the previous sentence.

Knuckleheads abound.  In all groups.  Natch.

Canadiens keep working.

In football, the saying is “they’re playing for next year’s jobs”.  Laughable all around.

Now some Irish Celtic music of some kind.  On the organ.

Break.

I’m musing off.

Or something.

Ten minutes.

Both teams are playing boring hockey.  White is not interested (in a proferred fight invitation).  He keeps his witchy head down and swallows his frustration.

Canadiens could have but didn’t.  Refs were a bit biased but, hey.  Montreal can beat Boston with or without refs.  And the refs didn’t make up any calls.  They just didn’t play their usual “let’s keep the score close” formula.  Montreal is not invited to those parties.

That’s part of what makes it so sweet when Montreal does win.  Depends on the reffing crew, true.  And the decade.  True.  Still happens.  Just not as predictable.

Hey.  They have a European ref nowadays.  Hired him last fall.  First one ever.

I’m serious.  Imagine if the NFL had hired its first black ref last fall?  Imagine that.

Well, I’m about thirty words from four thousand.  (ed note: Or was before the edit)

There was a time when writers were paid by the word.  Well some still are.  I wrote an article for FW Magazine about ten years ago and was paid by the word.  My article, articles, actually got reduced, however.

Boston scores again.  While the Ole, Ole chant went on.

Kaberle scores.  Marchand was allowed around the perimeter in a huge, uninterrupted circle and then he launched.  Kaberle potted the rebound.

Brunet expresses frustration in how Marchand was allowed to do as he wished.

Boston 6, Montreal 0

Eight minutes.

The bad news, says Pierre, is that there is still so much time remaining.

Houde says that the refs have seen an infraction.  Holding.  Horton.  Replay shows it’s legit.

Way too late.

What a joke of a league.

But what do you expect.

Montreal power.

There’s always a way to oppress those you don’t like.  Especially when you’re in power.

Darche takes a hit.  Marchand says, “What!”

Shakes his head and sits next to the surly Horton.  Who reminds me of Taylor Hall quite a bit.  The same stuck dough.

Five on three.

Crowd cheers.  Thomas stopped Gionta point blank at his right post.  But Gionta took a second too long.

Montreal works it around.  Now it’s lost.

Two on two.  On three.  Montreal manages to get back.

Another break.  Campbell.  Alone.

Insult to injury says Houde.  Somehow, the ol’ commissioner’s grandson scores.

On Auld.

High right shoulder.

Boston 7, Montreal 0

Five on three continues.  Sports offers much.  But justice is something that is more fleeting than ever in this league.  Both on and off the ice.

Another stoppage.

Under five.

Ryder hooks Eller to the ice.  No call.

More stick work from Ryder.  No call.

Do what you will.  Or as hockey’s self-appointed wise might say, let ‘em play.

Yes, let ‘em gouge, stick and maim one another.

Ah, the self-proclaimed, ordained and wise.

Delayed call.  Boston penalty.

Horton with the “it’s my bicycle” expression.

On Marchand’s hit, by the way, he directly attacked Gomez’ head.  Brunet let it go.  Houde stayed quiet.

Don’t let your kids grow up to be Cowboys.  I mean hockey players.

I meant Indians.

Uh.

Montreal power.

Chief Campbell and the tambourine.

Under two.

Disjointed attack.  Montreal is not committed.  But Desharnais manages to show pride and gets back beyond the call of duty and intercepts a slot pass with one stick reaching, a long arm.

One minute.

Penalty ends.

Two on one.  Boston.

Peverley’s cross-slot pass is intercepted.

Forty-five seconds.

Behind Auld.  Hash pass.

Eller at mid-ice.  Over the blue.  Long wrister.

To the blue now.  Long shot.  Blocked.

And one more goal.  Seguin.  But the game had ended.

Final Score
Boston 7
Montreal 0

HDS Stars: Tomas Kaberle, Tim Thomas, Nathan Horton
RDS Stars: Tim Thomas, Nathan Horton, Zdeno Chara

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