Welcome Back, Hitler

I remember a few years back there was some story about Bertuzzi doing something to some guy named Moore. You probably missed it. (The guy was slightly hurt and nobody noticed. Everything’s fine.) Anyway, according to a fucking idiot on my hockey team, a guy who allegedly “knows people in Colorado,” Moore is milking his injury for the never-ending civil trial that will see no resolution for anyone except for hockey journos making a fat word rate.

Which brings us to the Toddler. So he isn’t the fat, evil baby we thought he was. Still a prick, mind you, but he cried during the press conference. Which makes everything OK. Each tear was a truth and reconciliation commission stuffed inside a Care Bear doll. But not for Calgarians. Not at the time. But damned if the Toddlder isn’t winning them over now. Three goals in two games. An upper lip laden with chew for every single interview. Actually enjoying himself on the ice.

Furthermore, he could be the antidote for soft play from the likes of Huselius, a guy that Keenan had the pleasure of trading twice. Kind of like a Larry King wife. As for the Toddler, him putting the puck in the net almost makes you forget his…what the fuck were we talking about? Go TODD! We LOVE YOU!!!

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Cujo a Flame

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Good call, Sutter. Maybe.

Holy. Fucking. Shit. Curtis Joseph, 40, signed with the Flames today. That should ease the pressure off Kiprussoff, considering his current backup has about 15 minutes of experience of playing and wouldn’t look out of place at his own bar mitzvah. Cujo signed a one-year, $1.5 million contract to keep Mike Keenan from administering noogies via the media to Kipper every time he plays like Ray Charles. (It happens.) Calgary’s roster is already older than it’s been since…ever. But allowing Kipper to sit on the bench will pay huge, huge dividends. It’s working in Vancouver: they lose when Luongo sits, and win when he plays.

Your move, Vancouver

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“Does this shirt make me look gay? Mission accomplished!”

Last night 20,000 Calgary fans chanted “Avery Sucks! Avery Sucks!” after the fingernail polished one took an egregious dive late in the third period. It wasn’t clear what all the j’accuse was about: what, pray tell, did Avery suck to merit such taunting? And if he did in fact suck something, what could it be? Calgary is full of meanies!

All the cryptic chanting aside, the fans seemed to agree. Perhaps is because Avery is known to hockey fans as a yeller of racist cancer jokes at his fellow professionals. To New Yorkers, Avery is known as an erudite closet homosexual with designer lamps and Yves St. Laurent high tops. To Calgarians, he just sucks.

The Rangers next game is in Vancouver tonight. Will the Avery Sucks chant continue through western Canada? Your move, Vancouver.

Huselius isn’t fucking around anymore

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Four points last night against the Rangers. Twenty points since December 1. The second-leading scorer on the Flames behind you-know-who. And now last night’s set-up, in which he danced around Scott Gomez, wove around Marc Staal and Rozsival like they were cast in frozen dogshit, and gift wrapped one for Iginla’s second goal of the night. Since Huselius and Iginla have played together, Calgary has earned points in 14 of their last 15 games and sit in second in the Northwest division.

Worth mentioning that this was a guy who put a brick in his shorts at the mere mention of Mike Keenan. When both were with Florida, Huselius had been Keenan’s whipping boy, which is like being Graham James‘ whipping boy, minus the rapings in various cars. Earlier in the season, Keenan had benched Huselius for a game and threatened to fill his spot with Phaneuf, who, as everyone knows can’t resist filling him some spots. It never really happened, Iginla had an intervention with Keenan, and begged him to put Huselius on the top line with him. Now Keenan can’t help but like him. Keenan-like means that whenever you’re around, he takes a break from from shattering window panes using only his mind.

Video: Mike Keenan Mic’d Up

Condescending? Prick(ly)? Maybe. And this is with his self-editor red-lining on its Mormon setting.

Calgary Flames Declare War On Music

In the middle of the Canucks-Flames game last night, Sportsnet decided to ruin our intermission pee break with some “music journalism” instead of ruining it with their usual mix of “analysis.” The offending journalism was about Flames’ forward Mark Smith. Seems the nominally used centreman has a band. A bad one. But Smith’s band is part of Calgary’s legacy of musical terribleness:

smith-blows.pngMark Smith, blowing

Player: Mark Smith
Band: Vinyl Trees
Sounds Like: Dave Matthews, only way, way, way more gay. PS, the didgiridoo is awesome! It’s like he’s talking out of a giant stick!
Hear it if you must: thevinyltrees.com
Band potential as NHL metaphor: Fourth-line for Hershey

grinder.jpgMcCarty, sans jersey

Player: Darren McCarty
Band: Grinder
Sounds Like: Punk rock. We had to turn it off after McCarty sang, “I don’t mind/if the sun won’t shine…we’re all out of our heads”
Hear it if you must: myspace/grinder
Band potential as NHL metaphor:
Playing Junior ‘B’ for Graham James

lanny.pngLanny
Player: All, 1986
Band:
No clue. They went Britney on it.
Sounds Like: Sax-based garbage, a la Glen Fry’s “The Heat Is On”
Hear it if you must:
click the video below
Band potential as NHL metaphor: Well, they made it to the Stanley Cup finals