It's April 5th already?

I can't believe the season is so close to being over. I've been looking forward to this Blackhawks game since before the season started, and I can't believe that the day has arrived.

No idea why, back in September, I sprang for tickets to this Blackhawks game without a second thought. Why I chose a game that I'd have to pay for right away and wait seven months to see, I have no idea.

Maybe it was because I wanted to see the season finale, come hell or high water or any position in the standings.

Maybe it's because, as one of my friends reminded me last week, Canadiens-Blackhawks is one of those matchups that you can just never pass up.

Maybe it's because I have this weird life goal to see all of the Original Six teams in person, and after tonight I'll have five out of six. (I'm also 5/6 of the way to seeing all of the Canadian teams. I think I just figured out where all my money went.)

Maybe it's because Jonathan Toews is the Internet's favourite hockey player.

("The Circle of Hawks" was made by Kat, lead contributor to Runs On Duncan, which you should already be reading.)

Or maybe it's because I kind of like the Blackhawks. I know, I know, I wrote this post already about the Los Angeles Kings. Don't worry, I don't think I love the Hawks as much as I love the Kings, much less the Habs. There's just something about the Western Conference, and the Original Six, that I really like. I was very happy to see Jonathan Toews win a gold medal, a Conn Smythe trophy, and a Stanley Cup all in the same season. I'm still kind of surprised that he's such a great captain, and that he's been so composed since such a young age. (Pretty sure this has already been said: Jonathan Toews is my Sidney Crosby. Deal with it.) Joel Quenneville knows how to rock a mustache, and the Hawks have my favourite fan video series in "Joey The Junior Reporter."

And while I may not call the Hawks my first or second team, I wouldn't be opposed to receiving the same gift as the main character on Samantha Who?:

The very handsome Eddie Cibrian bought her a Hawks jersey personalized with "Smartass" on the back. I don't own one, but if I did I might have done the unthinkable and worn it to tonight's game. It's probably the only piece of enemy apparel I'd wear to the Bell Centre. Don't worry, I'll never become a real Hawks fan because I'm one of the few people who cannot stand "Chelsea Dagger."

The only major similarity between this game and the Kings game, both of which I chose to buy tickets for, is that the opposing goalie is a local boy. The Bell Centre was not very nice to Jonathan Bernier. Please, Montreal, do not boo Corey Crawford for no reason.

Even if I do have a reason, I won't boo. I'll be too busy cheering for my Habs in their last regular season game at home. I may or may not sound all hoarse on the radio tonight, but I'll have a good excuse.

Go Habs Go!! 

Dear injury fairy: you're a bitch

The injury fairy is angry. She's very angry. She's been messing with us big-time in the last couple of days. Maybe she just wanted to see how far she could go with the Canadiens. She's got a lot of bravado now that she managed to fell Sidney Crosby with a concussion. That was a pretty big get. Usually when she goes after the league's most important player, she makes him pull a muscle when he folds his own laundry, or something.

In case you're not up to speed, here's what happened during last night's game against the Buffalo Sabres at HSBC Arena: most of the Habs got injured and Patrick Kaleta is evil. Here, let a few of my Twitter friends fill in the blanks (I'm a little worried that Laura might sic the injury fairy on me, as she's the boss when it comes to Twitter screencaps):

I, of course, had a case of the maybes and tried to figure out why the injury fairy would do this to us, and what karma the Habs could have brought upon themselves. Karma's been especially mean to poor Max Pacioretty, who was sick, then got whaled on by Psycho Henrik Lundqvist, and now has suffered some damage to his ribs. Someone please keep an eye on him, to make sure he doesn't slip on the sidewalk or get a paper cut. Time to confess, Montreal Canadiens: What did you do?
Double-park somewhere?
Claim that Toronto or New York has better bagels than Montreal?
Tell Jacques Martin that his hair looked okay?
Watch Jay Leno at some point in the last year?
Go out into the Montreal cold without hats, scarves, or boots? Oh, wait...

...was it the "excessive" postgoal celebrations?

Well, whatever it was, the injury fairy decided to give the Habs an extra helping of hurt. And in doing so, she hurt my feelings. And the Kings lost, too. And I didn't win an Anze Kopitar autographed puck on Facebook. And then Jarome Iginla pulled out of the All-Star Game and was replaced by Daniel Briere.

Getting a little personal there, injury fairy. Maybe I'm the one who caused this. Are we cool now?

Dustin checks out

I have so much to say about Dustin Boyd now that he's no longer a Canadien. (Dustin? Justin? I really can't remember anymore.) If you think this move came out of nowhere, I've got a few theories about why this happened.

Maybe the 10 minutes he played all season took valuable ice time away from Lars Eller.

Maybe this team didn't want a player with a full head of curls. To which I say, DISCRIMINATION! Is this part of a greater conspiracy? Did I just figure out the real reason behind the Maxim Lapierre faux-hawk?

Maybe Pierre Gauthier wrote Boyd's name down to remember that he is indeed a "Dustin", but accidentally wrote it down on his spare set of waiver papers.

Maybe those waiver papers were intended for Scott Gomez because Gauthier was told once and for all that Montreal would not get Jarome Iginla. (But Iginla for Gomez would make me happy.)

Maybe it's time for Boyd to play in Edmonton or Tampa Bay - we all know the best way to play there is to be a former Canadien.

Maybe someone in the Habs' front office doesn't like the list of "Boyd" puns I keep in my back pocket.

Maybe he was not the Boyd we're looking for.

Maybe we'll start seeing some forward lines that make sense without having to worry about the odd man out.

Happy trails, Justin Dustin.