Why *I* love the Olympics

There's something about watching guys in Olympic jerseys that strikes this "wooooow" reaction that I can't even explain properly (but you'll bet I'll try). It doesn't even matter who they're playing for.

It's not the weirdness you feel after someone's been traded and suddenly they're wearing colours that seem alien. It's actually quite the opposite, that those colours were the only ones meant to fit. It's this feeling that he's playing for something greater, bypassing the questions of how you fit him in the salary cap or seemingly 'questionable' point-per-game ratios. For two weeks, everyone just shuts up and watches the Games.

The "shuts up" part doesn't apply if you're mainly watching Team Canada (forgive me, you'll obviously realize that I'm not a one-team girl by now) where the worry is a result of Torino II. And the power play. And who's going to play on the power play. And who's not. And the most important part: WHY?! But hey, that's what the mute button is for (check the "guide to..." tag for more references on that).

Olympics time is also crazy time. Case in point: Czech-Slovakia at midnight, bedtime at 3, midterm assignment completion at 8. True story. I have the shopping-bag eyes and the possibly annoyed prof whose lecture had said eyes rolling back in my head just an hour ago to prove it.

The crazier part is that it's worth it, specific sport notwithstanding. Why yes, even figure skating. There's a fun element of team spirit in all the athletes that they all deserve to be there, no matter what country. They train together during the season, compete all year and even pump up the crowd for the gold medallist as they stand just one place lower on that makeshift podium. In hockey, the guys are teammates. Just pick a pair! Last night alone had Plekanec-Halak, Krejci-Chara, Fleischmann-Jurcina (yes I know the latter has since been traded from Washington, but I count it). They look forward to seeing what it's like to play each other and pulling each other's leg about who had the upper hand in the end. No doubt the competition element is fierce, but the eclectic little athlete family at the end will be able to exchange all sorts of memorable stories about the experience for years to come.

This drama's for yo mama.

Surprise surprise, another story about a locker room split!

Montreal Forum host Tony Marinaro reports that there was an altercation in the locker-room following the 4-3 overtime loss to St. Louis last Wednesday. The reported altercation took place between defensemen Andrei Markov and goalie Carey Price. Marinaro reports Markov approached Price and said “If you are not going to play with heart, stay home. We don’t need you here.” Several players came to the defense of Price, while others sided with Markov.

For those keeping tabs, the latest practice altercation featuring Cammalleri and Lapierre came the morning after this alleged event.

Seriously,

Come on now.

For the rest of us who would much rather prefer to focus on the on-ice product (which yesterday only allowed Randy Tieman to put together 47 seconds of decent highlight footage, so there you have it, no need for my own commentary), here are some sure-fire ways to avoid feelings of rage while watching a Habs game:

- Baking. Yes, baking. It gives you something to do, the intermissions are less dull, positive aromas make for a positive mood, and if by some miracle the lead actually manages to be held you can feast happily later on. If you feel you'll burn the house down, however, maybe making popcorn will suffice. Props if you do that the old-fashioned way that doesn't take two to three minutes, and don't manage to involve the fire department.

- Muting the TV and putting the radio on to classical music as you watch. I tried this with a friend during the last Stanley Cup Finals and it was surprisingly effective.

- Or, if you're not into classical music, muting the TV and making your own play by play. Inspiration for this goes to the fellow at Peel Pub this Saturday who took advantage of the RDS sound blackout to make his own personal debut. It may have consisted of "and now he passes to the other guy, now back to the other guy, to his friend here the other guy!" but it was still highly entertaining, especially when the Habs scored immediately afterwards.

- Last but not least, if the game is on TSN, there's always the Pierre McGuire Drinking Game:
Hint: It doesn't necessarily limit itself to use during the World Juniors.
(thanks to thecheckingline.com.)


Now Habs. Let's bust that Lightning win streak. No preview post, because y'all should be looking for recipes right about now.

I'm excited that the Habs got two points...

... but I'm even more shocked that Georges Laraque got one.

(I think they'll forgive me for stealing this picture, but right now there's little other pictorial evidence of it)

Do not adjust your TV sets. Georges Laraque really did just score his long-time-coming first goal as a Hab.

Yes, Pouliot, Gionta, and Cammalleri also scored, and magnificently at that. Jaroslav Spacek delivered the kind of hit I didn't think he was capable of, and the team banded together against celebrity lookalike Steve Ott when he tried to mess with our Pleks.

It was a deserved win, and a show of the talent that this team has. (Yes, even if we spend a season and a half wondering where it went.)

The Game That Wasted A Perfectly Good Sign

Picture quality nonwithstanding.

Tonight's game, much like the last five, have given me no reason to wish for anything but starting the entire team from scratch and/or hiring hitmen to discreetly take out as many opposing players as possible to make a team forfeit because they're wondering "how did we suddenly lose so many players?" Actually, one hint may be this weather, but according to all reports (at least 21, 271 of them--yes, the two seats next to me were actually empty) no members of the Minnesota Wild perished from frostbite. Shame.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have at last erupted from my academic coma. It is not to announce great things, however. The Habs have lost their last five in a row and tonight was just one of those examples where everything went wrong, and no one was good enough no matter how desperately they pushed at the net (or from it). The recluse of the penalty box was not as prominent an option to avoid the pinball-puck waiting for every man wearing a CH this time around, but boy was it noticeable that Hamrlik wasn't there. So few powerplays leave the frightening reality that goes by the name of Marc-Andre Bergeron. Not that I can pin the blame entirely on him (as much as I'd enjoy that). The Habs never typically do well around this time of year, and as much as this year would love to be different, it hasn't. (And all I can hope for in my temporary long distance from my mini-calendar is that we don't have the fateful December 23rd game this year. Please tell me we don't. Please. I can see the RDS montages now.)

The only thing that warranted any laughs were the Annie Villeneuve-chants. He's no Sidney Crosby or Mike Komisarek to the Bell Centre crowd, but there's definitely no shortage of ways to pick on LaTender.


Either the best or worst thing happens now. A ridiculously long roadtrip. The maybe not-so-good thing is the "inferior" (for now) teams the Habs will face along the way. They tend to save their best for Ovechkin, or centennial games that I miss because I'm at a game of my own, or something. But here's hoping the CHristmas cheer will extend far enough to break out of this slump. Spike the eggnog, ring the bells, tear the wrapping paper, find some W's, and climb those standings, boys! It's my new CHristmas wish. One I'd like to share with all Habs' fans.

Face the music, Frankie B: Game Preview 11-14-09

Who will save MaxPac from the evil Predators?

This may or may not become a regular instalment, depending on that lurking evil otherwise known as finals. In the meantime: that Phoenix game was pretty bouncy to say the least. Good bounces, bad bounces, Czechs bouncing, three assists! I woke up to about eleven thousand tweets praising dear Tomas, which is a wonderful start to any day especially after The Year That Was (and could this potentially lead to The Year(s) That Will Be, Bob? ...Or perhaps I could stop pushing self-interests in this blog and maybe get back on track).

Montreal and Nashville's records are eerily almost the same, except Nasvhille is exactly at .500 and the Habs are missing a W in order to get there. Ways they could do that tonight: get on the puck first, not depend on special teams and most importantly, don't play the Cardiac Kids card and depend on OT. That may be a habit they've used more than regularly this season, but it's also one that will turn around to bite them if they use it too often.

Elvis impersonators (Nashvillians to watch out for)

Pekka Rinne. The youngster doesn't get a lot of fame, being where he is (ie. not in the East), but there's a reason he was here in Montreal with the rest of the All-Stars last year. I wouldn't be surprised if he pulled a Pavelec tonight.

J-P Dumont. Because he leads his team on the scoresheet, sure, but the ex-Foreur also accounts for 23 points in 30 career games played against the Bleu-Blanc-Rouge.

Steve Sullivan. Probably the only guy who wore Leafs colours that I ever secretly liked back in the day without previous team history to validate myself with, his speed and smarts and determination (he won the comeback player of the year award last season) make him dangerous. He may not be all over the scoresheet this season, but that doesn't mean he's unable to turn things around when needed.

Shea Weber. It's not for nothing that Stevie Y has his eye on this young defenseman. He does what's required of him on both sides of the ice; his offensive side in particular is good for third on the team in points.

Francis Bouillon. Because last game I only mentioned Robert Lang as a sidenote, and he scored on us. So Frankie needs his own bullet point and here it is.