Saturday, April 22, 2006

6-1, and Mr. Bigglesworth is Upset

The following is tonight's official Carolina Hurricanes top five suck list...with a twist of Dr. Evil:

  1. Oleg Tverdovsky: Tentative, whimpy, coughing pucks like they were made of hot magma. Not worth the meeeelyunnn plus dollars he's bringing down.
  2. Marty Gerber: He starts giving up cheap goals Tuesday night, I say feed him to the mutated sea bass-especially if they are ill-tempered.
  3. O-for-April 22 on the 'Canes PP: I'm not even asking for sharks with laser beams attached to their heads-just a goal on the PP. Ah, would you remind me what they pay you people for, honestly? Throw me a bone here!
  4. Shots on flesh and glass: More than double the number of shots. Seemed like every pass hit a body part or a stick. The 'Canes pounded the crap out of the ankles and skates of the Habs tonight. I think the Habs had somewhere in the neighborhood of 20 blocked shots. Lavvy should have called a TO early in the game and told them, "I have gathered here before me the world's deadliest assassins, and yet, each of you has failed to score more than one lucky goal on a breakaway rebound. That makes me angry, and when I get angry, somebody becomes a healthy scratch..."
  5. The between periods, Marty Gerber psyche analysis with goaltending coach Greg Stefan: "Marty loves adversity, you have to face adversity as part of hockShhhh! Let me tell you a little story about a man named Sh! Sh! even before you start. That was a pre-emptive "sh!" Now Greg, I have a whole bag of "sh!" with your name on it..."

Oh well. It's only game one. And with the lack of TV coverage, nobody in the English speaking world outside the 919 area code was watching anyway. Andrew Ladd, please lace 'em up and be ready to bring some nasty. Andrew Hutchinson, please wipe that dopey Jeff Spicoli grin off your face and get ready to play like you're not on ludes.


Memo: Peter Karmanos to Jason Karmanos

Subj: Panic Springs Eternal

Jason my boy, fire up the invisible jet and get to Ann Arbor. Bring me Jack Johnson. Bribe the "family advisor"-Tell Jack that Mike Ribero called him a pansy. Tell him that the Montreal fans can't wait to boo him in the Bell Centre. Whatever it takes. We'll have a spot for Jack because I'm going to place Oleg Tverdovsky in an easily escapable situation involving an overly elaborate and exotic death.

No comments: