The Last Week of the Regular Season

Too close to call. See you in the playoffs.

Ex-NHLer Busted for International Drug Smuggling

Uh-huh. Former Predator blueliner Jere Kalahti has been busted for smuggling coke and ecs into Finland.

This raises serious questions like How the fuck does this happen to a hockey player surrounded by agents? And, how can a guy accept two years of minimum wage in the NHL (for a total of around $1 million), and fail to invest it anywhere other than his sinuses?

In addition to wife-hittin’, drunk drivin’, coke snortin’, and Graham James fuckin’, we can finally add international drug financin’. Sweet. That ought to grow the sport.

Not so fast, us

New shit has come to light. Bye-bye, Pronger. (For eight games.)

Thornton vs. Cote: “It’s Just Rock ‘em sock ‘em Robots…”

Wait for the hail pulling. (Seriously.) Or wait for 1:12, when the close-up reverse angle shows 12 punches exchanged in six seconds. Or when the announcer says, “as a hockey fan, Jack, you just sit back and enjoy that.”

You won’t hear that in Canada because the PTA will have your nads removed by committee. That was Andy Brickley on Jack Edwards’ call of the year, “it’s just rock ‘em sock ‘em robots out there.”

Well, it’s probably not fair to other announcers because their calls come gift wrapped with Masshole accents.  But it’s also because Edwards and Brickley are the best American hockey broadcasters this side of Jeanneret.

Campbell let’s Pronger off the hook. Way to go, racist.

Cleaning snow off your skate was never easier. Thanks, Ryan.

Colin Campbell elected to grant Chris Pronger a free pass today: The big guy gets out of what would surely been a fucking prison sentence for stomping on the Canucks’ Ryan Kesler last night. Kesler told TSN that Pronger chopped him on the calf. This is close to home for Vancouver. Defenceman Kevin Bieksa recently returned from 1994 Rwanda when he suffered a huge hack out of his leg.

Anyway, several things are afoot (ha! OMG!) with this:

1. Pronger has a messed-up face at the moment. He’s been wearing that retarded face guard thing. It’s like a dog with the veterinary lampshade on its head. Even if the dog bites children in the face and needs a swift kick in the vagina, the lampshade makes it suddenly cute and cuddly and how can you push his nose in his own shit if there’s a goddamn lampshade on his head?

2. Colin Campbell suspended Chris Simon, a North American native/first nations/aboriginal, for precisely the same crime. Way to go, racist.

3. Unlike Simon, Chris Pronger is actually good.

Flyers Bend Over Twice For Leafs’ Kubina

Jeezuz! Two wins in back-to-back meetings. Two game-winning goals by defenseman Pavel Kubina, who seems to be handling the puck—and Philadelphia anuses—better than he has all year. The Leafs are only inching towards a playoffs they may never make, but at least they’re serving notice in all the right butts, leaving a bloody trail not unlike the trickle-down effect of prison sex in their wake: after being double ass-fucked by New Jersey and several guards (unconscious NHL referees) they simply turned around and anally raped the weakest link ahead of them.

Hockey Night (afternoon) in Kashmir

Indian Olympic Association President Calamadi En Kayos places a call to NHL commish Gary Bettman. “Gary, please! We are so fucking killing it here.”

Being the important hockey moguls we are at WAYOFFSIDE, we get invited to some pretty prestigious events. But we were truly honored—and maybe just a little scared shitless—when we recently journeyed to the ghetto ski area of Gulmarg in the high Himalaya of the Indian state of Kashmir, to witness the hockey portion of the 5th Indian National Winter Games. To get yourself oriented, Kashmir is the place where a heavily militarized Line of Control exists between India and Durkadurkistan, and bearded Mohamed Jihad-types regularly toss grenades into busloads of tourists because, well, God is Great and the Indian government, meh, not so much.

“It is through events like these that Durkadurkistan can finally be defeated, er, uh… the revival of Kashmir tourism can be achieved,” Chief Minister Ghulam Nabi Azad said.
Athletes from all parts of the country (?????) and the Indian Army and Air Force were competing in alpine skiing (a low-angled joke), cross-country skiing (a high-altitude joke), figure staking (also pretty funny) and ice hockey (complete comedy).

At 9,000 feet above sea level and over five metres of snow on the ground, it was tough work getting the rink dug out and the ice surface scraped clean of garbage and monkey feces. Not to mention removing several unexploded RPGs from under the concession stand. When the tournament finally got underway, there were other issues to overcome. Stray dogs were sleeping on the visiting players’ bench, and monkeys kept stealing Gatorade bottles. As for the play, imagine a Pee-Wee hockey league where anytime someone swipes at the puck they fall over, never to get up again. Once a player is lying on the ice they simply hack mercilessly at the ankles of any other passing player—including their own. Eventually everyone is in a heap like a New Delhi intersection.

We couldn’t recommend the action to anyone, except maybe as bombing practice for the Durkadurkistanis. Still, our visit was clearly appreciated. “We are praying many times for WAYOFFSIDE to come and now God has answered our prayers. As organizers of the games we couldn’t have asked for more,” said Tourism Secretary Naeem Akhter.

We’re thinking they could have prayed for a Zamboni.

Cote vs. Roy

 

“Wait. Let me fix my elbow pad.”

“Sure.”

Welcome Back

 

1. Coloradans welcomed the return of Peter Forsberg with a standing O. Coach Quenville threw him on the top line and played him for near 20 minutes. But anyone who didn’t notice Forsberg favoring his ankle, especially the NHL network’s Gary Green, who said “and he didn’t even favor his ankle!” saw the ice like Ray Charles. Forsberg played fine, no doubt, but largely because he was surrounded by Hejdouche and Sakic and because he’s Peter Forsberg. But anyone who thinks Forsberg is the 2002 Forsberg is fucking kidding themselves.

2. Some guy from Pittsburgh came back. We hear he’s the next big thing. He got an assist.

3. Brian Rafalski was “re-activated” or whatever the shit that means from the IR. Detroit needs him. They’ve been absolutely tanking lately (um, 2-7-1, in the last 10, anyone?) mostly because their stellar blue line has been on the shelf. Rafalski’s puck moving skills and PP quarterbackery were missed. To the point where Detroit’s once insurmountable lead in the West could be challenged by Dallas. We’ll see.

Sens Fire Coaches: Let the Desperation Begin

AN OTTAWA SENATORS FAN DOES WHAT SENS FANS (AND PLAYERS, AND COACHES, AND OWNERS—EVEN THEIR FUCKING ZAMBONI DRIVERS) DO BEST.

There are certain ineffable signs of impending spring in Canada: frozen dog turds exposed after months under wrap; excited budget chatter in the House of Commons (same thing, really); tulips and rainbows in Vancouver (oh wait, I forgot Gay Pride is all year long…). And the most telling sign of all—Ottawa Senators captain Daniel Alfredsson riding the bike in the dressing room amidst a scrum of reporters peppering him about why/how the high-and-mighty Senators managed to once again blow their sure-thing bid for Lord Stanley’s shiny mug. Alfredsson never has anything interesting to say, nor any logical explanation for choking on it. And this year is likely to be no different. But this time, it seems, there’s an even earlier portent of Senators late-season ineptitude and heartless play: after a 12-game stretch in which they lost twice to arch-rivals, the sad-sack Maple Leafs, and won only four contests, the solution they came up with to end the doldrums was to fire their top two coaches, John Paddock and Kevin Low right after the trade deadline. Or was that right after they lost 4-0 to Boston after losing 5-0 to Toronto? Whatever. Firing two coaches is rad. It sends all the right signals. And makes all sorts of sense—especially if your General Manager is the guy who coached the team to its last Stanley Cup final appearance. “Step aside douchebags, I’m taking the fuck over,” says Bryan Murray, now re-installed behind the bench. The Sens may indeed rally to turn it around, but their fate is still clear: They will be Losers. Again. And Alfreddson’s annual bike ride will seem, well, more pointless than ever.