Slacking, but some tidbits

We’re chilling the fuck out in an undisclosed country for a week or so, somewhere far from the sounds of Jeanneret and

Bob Cole:

And yeah, we missed the All-Star Sort-of-Star game with the mic’d up goalies who took on Bettman while live play was happening all around them…and allowing a goal just 15 seconds into this glorious/horrible experiment. Trust me, we’ll well aware of how much we suck for our absenteeism. So we’re phoning it in. Specifically:

Teemu and the Ducks. On terms. Jesus. If he’s good for a post-break 20 goals, everyone in the division is in substantially deeper shit than before. Nevermind the play, read that shit about the performance enhancement bonus.

Emery misses another practice. What a tard. Does he not know he’s not on the top of the shitlist so much as he’s hard bound it as a signed copy? Oy.

Vancouver’s blueline, once classified as a natural disaster, is approaching genocide territory. No Bieksa, and now no Mitchell. Forecast calls for Bobby Luongo giving his best “hey, what can you do?” Italian schtick to the cameras…while quietly dying a little inside.

Oilers may have a new owner in pharmacy magnate Darryl Katz. Does it even matter? Nobody good wants to play there. Not even Hemsky…and he’s THERE. Oh well. At least they’ll have access to free douchebags to augment the ones they’re paying.

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Downie’s Syndrome Cured! (Thanks, Georges!)

WayOffside has recently learned that Quebec-born Georges Laraque is a hobbyist physician. Our team of researchers/shower voyeurs and stick boys recovered his medical journal following last night’s game against the Flyers.

Log: 1/24/08
Location: Philadelphia
Notes: Oui, les Flyers’ hab all succumbed to Downie’s Syndrome. It’s ‘ard to believe that these…these…these, eh, man/enfants have not learned from positive re-hinforcement, negative consequences, or da punitive trehts of da NHL: hinviting one to play in le All-Star Game. Zut alors! I must take dese man/enfants, side-by-each, and hexamine dem.

Patient: Steve Downie. Dis patient ‘as many, many problems. ‘E ‘as no hability to restrain ‘imself hin key situation hinvolving des board and ‘itting players hin les numeros sur their backs.

Diagnosis: Downie’s Syndrome.

Treatment: happlying liberal tastings of hown medicine. Topically.

Patient: Riley Cote. Like Downie, dis guy tink dat hits hokay to ‘it guy in da ‘ead. ‘E halso tink dat ‘e pretty tough, per’aps suffering from ‘igh self hesteem wit complications of Downie’s Syndrome.

Treatment: 13 lefts.

Prognosis for both patients: incurable.

Ferguson Fired, Applies at Dairy Queen

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Fired from his GM job with the Toronto Maple Leafs today, John Ferguson Jr. has been scouting the soft serve machine at DQ. He’s definitely accrued the relevant soft cone experience: for the past two years he’s stacked long, soft, circular pooings in his own bed, the beds of his players, the beds of the city. This is the guy who spent a fortune on a guy who would become a back-up goalie, and nearly 20 percent of the cap on several mediocre defencemen. But it didn’t matter. In the eyes of Toronto’s retarded rabid fan base, Steen was as good as Getzlaf, Wellwood as good as Malkin, McCabe as good as Phaneuf. Leaf management summarily drank their own Kool-Aid and chased it with their own bed-sheisse by the clump.

The Toronto media, however, woke up. This being Toronto, it was 40 years in the making. Suddenly they were calling for his head. Like us. And now that Ferguson’s done, there’s a tsunami of change a-comin’. Top-to-bottom. The ownership over the richest team in hockey may change over Ferguson’s pink slip. And certainly, with Cliff Fletcher aboard, the team will too. So….WayOffside’s crystal ball has some roster predictions.

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Tuesday Regurgitations

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Bye bye, Fergie: We wish we could have said we hardly knew ye. But we did.

The Caps are for real. Ovechkin dominated the Penguins like Star Jones at a Dunkin’. Malkin and Ovechkin nearly duke it out for top Russian honors, each scored two and added a helper, but Ovechkin went to work in the SO.

Luongo loses two in a row on home ice. Atta boy, all star!

Peter Forsberg is practicing in Sweden. Let the free agent sweepstakes (and ankle MRIs) begin!

Crosby Hurt, Everyone’s Plans Ruined—Except Pittsburgh’s.

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Possibly stoned like the rest of his team on Saturday night, the Canadiens’ Andrei Kostitsyn is stoned by Penguins goaltender Dany Sabourin during second period action in Montreal.

Oh the humanity! The NHL’s annointed Lord and Saviour, Jesus “Sidney” Crosby, has been declared out at least 4-6 weeks with an “upper ankle sprain” (what the fuck is that—a leg sprain?… as opposed to a “lower ankle sprain” which would be a foot sprain…) which means no All-star game, no visiting dignitaries, no addresses to the UN General Assembly, no sermon on the mount and probably no more dinner parties. His successor, Evgeni the Baptist “Malkin” is now being counted upon to be the Penguins’ top scorer. He has posted two three-goal games this month and is second in team scoring to JC Superstar. Malkin is also doing well at learning English—though it’s not quite as good as Crosby’s French—and has a lock on the word ‘try.’ “I have been trying as hard as I can, but I’m going to try my best,” Malkin said, speaking through an interpreter. “Right now, I am going to try to do maybe a little bit more… I will try to be the leader of this team.” And what says leader better than an empty net goal? Like Evgeni the Baptist’s backhander with 12.4 seconds remaining in Pittsburgh’s 2-0 win over Les Glorieux Habs (mais, nous sommes le tired…). Goalie/acolyte Dany Sabourin stood on his head for JC with 31 saves and a shutout while unlikely apostle Jeff Taffe won the game with his second goal of the year scored on a pass from noted centurion Georges Laraque—who was doing a self-proclaimed St. Gretzky behind the net.

Video: Goal of the year

Last night, Columbus took on the Coyotes. Normally two teams we could give a shit about. But tied 3-3, 30 seconds left in the game, Mike Peca sends the outlet pass to Rick Nash who then tears off the Coyotes penises and feeds it to them.

…but is it better than Kovalchuk’s end-to-end, “I Russian, you nyet” reminder for all of us? Meh, don’t think so. To win it in the dying seconds, with no chance to pass trumps pretty much anything.

Video: Smell The Glove, Indeed

Ducks vs. Stars, Niedermayer pots one adds two helpers, blahdeddy fucking blah: Brad May and Krys Barch chucked mitts in a quality brouhaha. But forward on to about 1:15 of the video (during the replay of the fight. Can you believe we lived without fight replays because it was “too violent?”) and watch Barch tell May to mind the errant glove laying on the ice. He’s all, Brad, please don’t trip on that. You could have a nasty fall and it could impede the pummeling we’re about to administer to each other. Good to know there’s two samurai who still follow The Code.