A Brutal Night

I don't want to talk about it. And I may or may not have been weeping at my seat at the Rogers Centre when Doc left the game.

To make matters worse, the Pittsburgh Penguins are Stanley Cup champions. While I'm overjoyed for the incredible bitches at Puck Huffers, fuck the Penguins.

Poor Roy Halladay. Poor Marian Hossa.

Brutality is there.

The Wager

Remember the Blue Jays bet I made with Stephen Amell from Searching For '93, back in March? You know; eight categories, over/under, seven worth one point, wins worth two points, highest total score wins.

And, of course, $100 and a videotaped autograph with Mike Wilner on the line.

Well, I joined SA on a podcast for an update. Thanks to some fine handicapping by Mr. Amell, the score is tight, and it should be fun to see how it plays out over the summer months.

Have a listen. As SA put it: "Along the way, we may or may not talk about Twitter, Jeff Blair, the Raptors, Reggie Evans, Bryan Colangelo, the Stanley Cup Finals and, um, other stuff. It's a great conversation."

Enjoy. If you get through the whole thing, you're a trooper, and I'd love to know your thoughts.

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A Simple Decision

What to do on a Friday night: head down to the Rogers Centre and watch Roy Halladay abuse the Florida Marlins? Or head to a local establishment to watch game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals between the Red Wings and Penguins? (Win that shit, Hossa.)

In all honesty, it's a no-brainer. Doc only starts 15-to-17 home games a year.

Rooting for Marian Hossa

Weird, eh? Trust me, I know. But read me out.

In my defence, the Ottawa Senators' stank Hossa used to be afflicted with has worn off. He was last a Senator way back in 2004; a long time ago, when even the Maple Leafs were good. Five years later, I want Hossa to win the Stanley Cup. With the Detroit Red Wings. In Pittsburgh.

I never thought the day would come, but I respect Marian Hossa. I respect the decision he made last summer to sign with the the Detroit Red Wings. He made it for the right reason: to win the Stanley Cup. And in choosing Detroit over the Penguins, Hossa's one win from vindication.

Every hockey player is one game, one shift, and one injury away from having his career ended. Hossa left a ton of guaranteed money, and years, on the table to chase his dream.

Now don't get me wrong; Hossa got paid. He made just under $7.5 million this season. But he could have banked $9 million a year in Edmonton, or signed a multi-year deal with Pittsburgh estimated at about $50 million. And I can't help but admire that. For some reason, I don't want Hossa's decision to leave Pittsburgh and sign with Detroit to come back and haunt him.

Most of all, I appreciate Hossa's desire to win. If Mats Sundin truly wanted to win a Stanley Cup, he would have signed with the Red Wings last July (Detroit wanted him), or called Ken Holland mid-season and agreed to play for the league minimum. Instead, by signing with Vancouver, Sundin chose the route he took in Toronto: get paid, and play for a team with not the best shot, but a shot.

I believe Mats wanted it. Bad. Just not enough. Not as bad as Hossa wants it.

His Ottawa tenure a thing of the past, I'm hoping Hossa is high on Brian Burke's July 1 to-do list. Marian's a star; thirty-years-old, a proven 40-goal man, and only two seasons removed from a 100-point campaign with Atlanta. And, possibly as early as tonight, a Stanley Cup winner.

UPDATE: Read this post from James Mirtle. It's hard to win the Stanley Cup (understatement of the year). I'm not going to rip Hossa for giving himself the best shot to do so. 

Like a captain should ...

Seven games later, and I've got a whole lot more respect for Sidney Crosby than I did two weeks ago.

I still don't particularly care for him; there's certainly no man crush. But dude can play. He's obviously learned a thing or two from living with Mario Lemieux. 

Hey, there's nothing wrong with living in someone's basement.

And, while I hate to whine, it's really not fair that the Penguins have both Crosby and Evgeni Malkin. Bastards.

One-nothing: Crosby. Here's hoping they meet again.

Super Mario

For some reason, Lemieux's been on the brain of late ...

The best ever, in my humble opinion.

I vividly remember the night Mario came out of retirement; Dec. 27, 2000. It was a Wednesday night. Our Maple Leafs were in Pittsburgh. I watched the game at home with my brother, and Lemieux assisted on a Jaromir Jagr goal thirty seconds into the first period. In his first game after more than three and a half years away, Lemieux finished with a goal and two assists.

The Leafs lost 5-0 that night. It was a pleasure.

You know all that hype? Believe it.

Look at Ovechkin. Look at those two grown men embracing. Good times are being had by all. (Well, except the Penguins. And their fans.)

It's Ovechkin vs Crosby and Malkin. Ovie vs Sid and Geno. Three of hockey's finest players, none older than 23, squaring off in the second round of the playoffs. A series that is so far - somehow - actually living up to its incredulous media hype.

And I've been kind of apathetic towards it. I figured it was just that: hype. 

I've caught about 45 minutes of actual action throughout the first two games. Truthfully, I've been watching more Toronto Blue Jays baseball. Hey, they're a first place team, asshole. (Playoffs!!1)

Full highlights of games one and two have been watched, though. Amply. A helluva playoff series is going down. The stars are shining. Well, except that Malkin guy. And, umm, where was this Varlamov character all season?

I caught the third period last night, and my reaction to hat-tricks by both Crosby and Ovechkin was a hearty "fuck off." (Ovie's third was something, enough for Bob Cole's trademarked "OH BABY!") Both #87 and #8 have officially taken their game to the proverbial "next level." It certainly does exist. And it's slightly arousing to watch.

Wednesday night, the Blue Jays are in Anaheim. Which means a most accomodating 10:05 PM eastern start time. One that works out perfectly because, clearly, there's a hockey game to be watched.

As the fine folks at Puck Daddy pointed out a few days ago, Mario Lemieux and Wayne Gretzky never met in the playoffs. I guess this is what it would have been like.

Some quick, penetrating thoughts: Crosby complaining about hats being thrown on the ice to celebrate an Ovechkin hat-trick - the nerve of Washington fans! - is going to do wonders for his reputation as a whiny little bitch crybaby. He must have the same PR guy as Mats Sundin ... Chris Kunitz is officially a douchebag. Cross-checking the goalie in the neck? Stay classy ... Mario Lemieux's playoff beard can only be admired and appreciated. I am in love with that man. Did you know that when he came into the league Lemieux asked to wear #99? So as to not draw too much attention to his desire to be better than Gretzky, and create his own brand, he simply flipped the numbers around. What a man ... It's going to be quite the afternoon: Brett Cecil makes his MLB debut for the Jays, followed by Man United vs Arsenal. For Cecil, the beginning of a promising career. For the Gunners, the end of their Champions League aspirations.

Deep Thoughts Vol. 17: Sorry, Michel...

I'm not sure what it is about the Pittsburgh Penguins, but they sure as hell bring out the best in our Toronto Maple Leafs, don't they?

Including Saturday night's dominant ass-kicking, the Leafs ended up taking three of four from the Pens this season. That's six points Therrien and co. left on the table. Against the Maple Leafs. Six points that I believe, in the end, cost Michel Therrien his job.

Sorry, Pens fans. And Pens bloggers. The Leafs didn't mean to drive the final nail into the Therrien coffin. Frankly, I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did.

As a coming-out-of-the-closet Pens fan, I think Dan Bylsma for Therrien is a good move. The Penguins are too talented a squad to miss the playoffs. Period. There's a lot of hockey left to play, and the Pens are only five points out of eighth, and seven points out of fifth, in the Eastern Conference. I'm not worried. The Pens are making the playoffs. ComeBackCity2009.

And, for the record, I may or may not be the owner of a Penguins jersey. And I may or may not have found it in the depths of a closet at my parents' place over the weekend...

Jason Blake and the Fist Pump

Back to my first and true love, the Leafs (don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise).

I had a George Costanza moment in the third period of Saturday night's game. After my hero Jason Blake scored his second goal, an absolute beauty, in only 19 seconds, to put the Leafs up 3-2, my right arm involuntarily fist-pumped. It just happened. I didn't realize it until after the fact. And it freaked me the fuck out.

But deep down, I kind of enjoyed it. And I want it to happen again.

Speaking of #55, isn't he just a dear? So much so that even ardent Blake-hater Down Goes Brown is coming around. And if DGB is beginning to see the light, you know Blake truly is playing out of his mind.

John Ferguson Jr.'s Greatest Move

His name is Dominic Moore. He's got 38 points in 56 games, including a team-leading 27 assists. His career high in points, prior to this season, was 18, back in 2005/2006 when he was a New York Ranger.

Moore's been nothing short of a revelation, and has found chemistry alongside the fist-pumping wonder, Blake.

Picked up off the waiver wire, Moore hands down represents JFJ's finest hour (it was a looooong hour). He's making only $900 K, and is scheduled to become an unrestricted free agent come July 1st.

Here's hoping Brian Burke doesn't let it get to that point. Moore may be somewhat of an attractive commodity come trade deadline day, but I'd rather the Leafs get his autograph on a new contract. There's something to be said for a guy who works his tail off every night and is able to shed the label of "defensive specialist."

Moore's good people. A Toronto boy. He'll be 29 in August. He can surely teach some of the younger Leafs a thing or two, especially in the faceoff circle. Even during a rebuild, I believe Moore's proven he's the type of guy you want to have stick around.

The Timeless Art of the Fist Pump

As you can see from the photo evidence above (merci beaucoup, Yahoo! Sports), Jason Blake, the Toronto Maple Leafs' leading scorer, has got it down pat.

And you know what? I've never been much of a fan, but I'm beginning to grow rather fond of #55's fist pumpage action. Especially when he shows excellent fist pump etiquette, and it comes after an eventual game-winning goal in the third period against the Pittsburgh Penguins.

Keep doing your thing, Blake.

The Raycrap Report Vol. 5: An Apology, Maybe...

Sidney Crosby and his hapless Pittsburgh Penguins were the latest team to succumb to the goaltending force known as Andrew Raycroft, dropping a 5-3 decision on Saturday afternoon.

I figured the final nail in the coffin of Pens coach Michel Therrien, or "hockey dad" as he's lovingly called by my girl Lori over at Hockey, Football, and Stiletto Shoes, would have been a loss to the one and only Raycroft. But that wasn't the case. The Pens lost, Therrien's still got his job, and Raycroft continues to defy all logical, well, logic.

Raycroft's effort on Saturday was reminiscent of his days with the Toronto Maple Leafs. He stopped only 21 of 24 shots, but he won. Again. And wins are nice.

Now that he's won seven games in a row...

Sorry, I need a second. I can't believe I just wrote that.

...

OK. My apologies. Let's try this again. Yes, I did just take a shot of Wiser's. 

Now that he's won seven games in a row, it's looking more and more like our good pal Andrew may supplant Peter Budaj as the number one goalie in Denver. Raycroft will be between the pipes tonight in Columbus when the Avalanche visit the Blue Jackets.

I know, what a world.

What I don't know is what Raycroft, now sporting a 9-1 record and a .905 save percentage, wants from me. I don't really know why he's doing this to me. I mean, haven't us Leafs fans, and you know, fans of good goaltending, suffered enough? Raycroft's exploits remind me of Happy Gilmore, when he told Shooter McGavin, "Uh oh, Happy learned how to putt!" Suddenly, he's learned how to play goal again. Bastard. 

I'm at my wits end. How can I make fun of Raycroft when he's sporting solid numbers, and when the Leafs are easier in their own end than a couple of Jarvis St. hookers? I can't, dammit. I've become so disillusioned with Vesa Toskala and his whore-like five-hole to the point where I'm willing to offer Raycroft an apology...maybe.

If, by the end of the season, Raycroft's save percentage (.905) is still higher than Toskala's (.882, fuck!), I will offer Raycroft a full apology, and never, ever, talk smack about him again.

Basically, the ball is now firmly in Toskala's court. He's got half a season to pull up his God damn panties jock strap, and play with some pride. I mean, as a Leafs fan, I don't have much of anything. It would be a damn shame for me to lose "The Raycrap Report," as well.

Oh, and just to warn you, if Raycroft does in fact finish with a higher save percentage than Toskala, and Paul Maurice leads the Carolina Hurricanes to the playoffs, I'm going to need a hug, and a glass of booze, more than I've ever needed either before.

Jealousy Is There

The Detroit Red Wings have done it again. They are Stanley Cup champions for the fourth time in 11 years. That, my friends, is a hockey franchise with its head on straight. Oh, to be a fan of the Red Wings.

I'll admit that I was cheering for Detroit. I'm not a big Pittsburgh Penguins fan. I don't particularly like that Sidney Crosby fellow, especially his whining and diving ways. I feel like he carries an attitude of entitlement while he's on the ice, that he deserves all the calls from the stripes, and the respect of all those around him. Sorry Sidney, but you've got to earn it.

Don't get me wrong, Crosby's a great ambassador for the game, and I'm sure he'll win a number of Cup's in what will be a glorious career, but not yet. It wasn't his time.

And before I forget, Crosby's "playoff beard," if I can even call it that, is certainly to go down as the most pathetic in NHL history.

I'm also not a big fan of Pittsburgh's Maxime Talbot. He's kind of a douche. And while I know it's blasphemous for me to say so, I've realized that I can only appreciate Gary Roberts' douchebaggery when he's playing for my team. When Gary isn't in the blue and white his constant gloves to the face and cross checks to the lower back of his opponents just seem a bit, well, dirty. Yeah, I said it.

Anyway, congratulations to the Detroit Red Wings and all their spoiled fans. Four Stanley Cup's in 11 years? Ridiculous. The Wings are always classy in victory and are a model franchise for every team in the NHL, especially the Maple Leafs. I honestly can't remember the last time the Red Wings were not a competitive team. Year after year, they're at or near the top of the standings, yet they never waver from their mantra, which is to build through the draft. I hope the Leafs have been taking notes. Pages upon pages upon pages of notes.

Niklas Lidstrom deserves some serious props as well. He became the first European-born captain to lead his team to the Stanley Cup. While Lidstrom is rightly recognized for his talent year in and year out, I don't think people take the time to understand just how incredible his career has been. It's not a stretch to say that Lidstrom is arguably one of the greatest defenceman of all-time.

The champion Red Wings were a pretty Euro-heavy squad. The majority of their top talent - Conn Smythe winner Hank Zetterberg, Pavel Datsyuk, Johan Franzen, Nik Lidstrom, Niklas Kronwall, Mikael Samuelsson and Tomas Holmstrom - were all, save for the Russian Datsyuk, Swedish. I hope their victory dispels the absurd notion that every team needs a core of solid Canadian hockey players, and a Canadian captain, to bring home the Stanley Cup. It's a global game and the Red Wings proved it.

As for the Stanley Cup herself, isn't she just the most beautiful trophy you've ever seen? I could stare at her forever. After the Red Wings were crowned champions and started to pass around the silver chalice, I got a couple of text messages from a couple of buddies, who happen to be brothers, who live down in the good ol' U.S. of A.

From Karan in NYC:
"Is it gay if a man cries when the Cup is hoisted?"

My reply:
"I'm going to have to say no."

Karan's reply:
"Just something about the Cup...it's like the first time I saw boobs."

That's gold right there. I don't think I could have said it any better myself.

And here's one from Kunal in Minnesota:
"I just want to win one. Why do they get 4 in 10 years and we can't win one? I'm going to cry."

Ah, the Stanley Cup. She elicits tears of joy, and tears of immense anguish. Keep your head up though, Kunal. Sean over Down Goes Brown (subscribe to it, trust me, it's that good) has some information that might make you feel a bit better:

"But before (Detroit's) win in 1997, they went 42 years without a Cup. That was 42 years of misery, including a very long stretch where the team was a complete non-factor. Then they got their act together, and the rest is history."

You know what that means, right? 2009 will mark the 42nd anniversary since the Leafs last hoisted the Stanley Cup. We're next.