montreal game 7

I think they're already shutting down St. Catherine. Tonight is going to be wild. Jersey Shore wild. Blacked-out-Ronnie-post-fight-with-Sammy-Sweetheart-multiplied-by-J-WOWW-on-her-period-wild. Yeah!!

Hopefully the Habs win, so the cops will be less aggressive and hate-filled when the rioting starts. (I always wondered what it would be like to be one of these post-game riot cops. You don't get to watch the game and you have to deal with a bunch of drunken knuckleheads who don't like you. No wonder why they're so angry.)

Don't worry though, mom. Going down as an objective observer. I am a former-journalist, remember.

Yes, the flow of humanity has started. It's the first decent, sunny day in a week and everyone is talking "tricolores." Red shirted Montrealers are flooding into the downtown. I went salmon-style on my way home to grab some jeans. Can't watch a game at the pub in business casual. That's not keeping (Mont-)real.

Apparently they sold out $10 tickets to the Centre Bell to watch the game on the Jumbotron in four hours yesterday.

A guy at work is on shaky ground because he's missed so many days of work due to "illness" after Habs games this playoffs.

This has been quite the run. No matter what happens, it has been a time. This team is playing playoff hockey, for better or worse. They're blocking shots. They're riding a hot goalie. It's a nice contrast to the Canucks team I've spent nearly a month fretting over. I swear, that team is going to kill me. It was ugly. I have a lot to say about them, but nothing that hasn't been said a zillion times already -- and by myself none the less. Only guys who looked like they gave a crap consistently were Edler, Raymond, Wellwood and Grabner. The Sedins got shutdown by Keith and Seabrook. Erhoff and Samuelsson played well for the most part. Bernier wasn't as bad as everyone made him out to be. But Demitra better be on the way out of town, and hopefully Bieksa isn't far behind. I wouldn't mind if they made him a forward, but he is so mistake-prone, I have mini-shits every time he is on the ice. Luongo wasn't as bad as he was made out to be either, but he's got to ditch the 'C' and concentrate on being a netminder.

I'm depressed, but Chicago is a good team, as much as I hate them.

Man, I was excited about the game tonight but now the Nucks have me bummed.

I'm just going to go to bed.

(Yeah right...)

game 1 round 2: vancouver 5 - chicago 1

Just a few cliffnotes, because I don't want to perpetuate a jinx.

Bobby Lou is back. He seems to have regained the good old mojo. He's tracking the play and swallowing rebounds like his past self. He's not trying to be more than a goaltender right now. I'm a confident in my boy again...

Loved the Hank Sedin snow shower on Niemi early on in the first. Mr. Art Ross has a sense of history.

Also enjoyed that Burrows started lipping off Keith, just like he went after Doughty right away in Round 1.

While I still hate Scott Oake and can't understand how the players don't punch him in his 'chic' black spectacle-wearing, spiderweb combover head, I must say that I really enjoyed the CBC's build up to the game tonight.

That's it. That's all I'm going to say...

(Maybe the only thing that rivals Joel Bouchard's hair is Joel Quenneville's moustache.)

Thoughts?

Saw the last two periods at le Station des Sports, amidst the Mayweather-Mosley fight. Still can't believe this was a bigtime, hyped fight because everyone knew Mayweather was going to mop the canvas with Mosley.

One question I had: So Michael Buffer gets paid like $10,000 to basically say "Let's get ready to rummmmm-bbbblllleeee" at these fights. And I suppose I'm okay with that, seeing that both fighters made millions and the "Let's get ready to rummmmm-bbbblllleeee" got everyone excited about the fight at the sports bar, but how does Mr. Buffer get away with using cue cards at these events? That's just unprofessional.

Dude, you're getting paid 10gs to list off a couple of sponsors, the heights, weights and hometowns of the boxers and then the "Let's get ready to rummmmm-bbbblllleeee." Are you really that dense that you need cue cards to remember that shit?

Come on, now.

Another RIP... Little Brother... Sad, sad, sad, sad, sad...

GETCHA POPCORN READY

game 4 round 1: vancouver 6 - l.a. 4/game 5 round 1: vancouver 7 - l.a. 2/game 6 round 1: vancouver 4 - l.a. 2

Like that sharty Staind song... IT'S BEEN A WHILE....

Don't think I forgot about this thing, because I didn't. Don't forget I'm a fanatic and even though I'm normally a rational person, I noticed that the Canucks won every single game I didn't write something about and I'm not going to funk with the power of the jinx. Don't forget I'm the guy that once yelled at a friend during a World Junior Championship final because I correlated a U.S. comeback to the fact that he stopped ripping putrid farts. Don't ever forget that.

And don't forget that I'm a lazy fart.

But we made it, didn't we Canucks fans? It was a rocky road. I spent all of games two through five in a haze of alcohol and in times that could be described as grand. Game Three hurt me. To steal a line from someone more profound than I, I was a pendulum that night, swinging from date to game. I was sort of nervous about both. I drank more than I should have and spent less time devoted to each than is permissible, and I couldn't get out of my own head. Luckily, my date was forgiving and she talked me through my ups and down. Game Four, I spent on the run, as I watched a Marlon Brando (circa Last Tango in Paris) meander like a sore thumb through a nifty loft party with the Wind-Up Radio Sessions and some other bands without names. It was all good laughs, even with the dead hipsters and teeming polygamists. I got updates from Fredward Scicssorhands throughout the night and I was so damned euphoric, I walked home from Griffontown, singing along to 'Wanna Be Starting Something' looped to repeat on my iPod the entire time. I watched the game highlights alone in a Pizza Pizza on St. Catherines, surrounded by club stars and junkies. Game Five, I spent with my charming date again and I was far more comfortable with her and the team and things were just peachy all around. Game Six, well, I made amends with Roberto Luongo and I feel as if I've about four of my nine lives during these past two weeks.

Sammy Swedeheart? Come on, that's pretty good...

L.A. is going to be scary good as soon as they get that goaltending sitchy figured out. They are deep. They are punishing big. They have all the ingredients you need. They're what the Chicago Blackhawks were last year. It kind of dawned on me too why they've become good and the Oilers have fallen off so badly - the Kings took away all the players that made the Oilers tough to play against, ie. Smyth, Greene and Stoll. Anyways, we haven't heard the last of that squad. And I'm talking about the Kings here.

There is a lot to be excited about in Canucks land. We didn't even have our second line rolling in that series and we managed to knock off a deep team. The Sedins have lived up to their billing and Sammy, with his playoff reps, shoot-first-and-hit-everything-that-moves mentality are complimenting the Twins nicely. The Wellwood-Bernier-Demitra line has been a surprise and the D, with the emergence of Edler as a bonafide star, are shoring up at the perfect time.

Luongo seems to be gaining his confidence again too and hopefully he is just starting to hit his stride, as we are poised for a rematch with Nemesis Kane and the Hawks. The speed of the Hawks scares me a bit, but I love how it feels like the Canucks are never out of a game.

If there was ever a time to 'Getcha Popcorn Ready,' it would be now. This series is going to be a dandy.

Not only that, folks, but the Habs are doing what no one has expected. I went to work today and it seemed even the most hardcore fans of the Rouge et Blanc were cracking jokes about the Canadiens and how they would blow it tonight. But Jaro Halak descended from another planet and put on a show that reminded me of Bobby Lou against the Stars and Ducks a couple years ago. He was unbeatable tonight.

The Halak/Price debate is officially over (even though it has been for months, for all intents and purposes.) The city is buzzing right now. Cars are honking, flags are waving, people are yelling, cops are scowling. It's great stuff.

My favorite part about all this, though? We get to see Joel Bouchard's hair again on Wednesday.

Have you seen his hair in HD yet? If a shark had hair, I'm sure it would look like Joel Bourchard's.

I have been lazy though lately, I'll admit. Our old pal Jung sent me a nice email the other day that sort of kicked me in the patooter to keep writing.

This city is like a gift and a curse. It's literally non-stop inspiration. I've been pretty much relegated to Centre-Ville since I arrived (my own doing) and lately, I've been meandering around the Plateau with some folks who know the score and it's just money. Little pubs on every corner. Restaurants run by grannies in nooks and crannies. Too much to see and do.

The last two weekends have been absolute gems. You know how you feel when you're on vacation and you spend your time aimlessly following your immediate impulses and your stomach? That is what I've done the past two Saturdays and I haven't been let down at all.

The downside? It leaves little time for a quasi-neurotic guy like me who likes to spend a lot of his time ranting and raving to do much of any ranting.

This is the city of characters, but I feel I've got no time to write about them. I'm too wiped by the time I get home to put anything together. But that's no excuse. That's just me being lazy.

It seems everyone I meet is in a band or living this alternate life after work, where they are following their ambitions. It's time I started doing the same. Whatever that is.

No more excuses.

(Just no more Canucks updates. The power of the jinx is real, my friends.)

And a very late RIP to Guru. Gifted, Unlimited, Rhymes Universal.

game 3 round 1: vancouver 3 - l.a. 5

game 2 round 1 recap: vancouver 2 - l.a. 3 (ot)

Not much game-related to relate.

Woke up this morning seeing stars or spots from an epic Saturday. Spent a Saturday the way a Saturday is meant to be spent. Went to the market, ate some kefta, had a tiny coffee at Cafe Italiano, drank a bunch of micro-brew pints at a cool little pub in Mile-End while playing Scrabble and cards, went back to Bruno Bar for Habs-Caps game two and then a stellar party where I tried to watch the Canucks game while adjusting the rabbit-ears for reception.

Didn't catch the whole game. Turned it on and it was 2-0 Van and watched with horror as the Kings tied it up with two ginos back-to-back. I really can't comment on the game, since much of what happened after Bruno Bar is hazy. Kopitar looked good though. As did Kesler and Edler. I remember seeing Doughty smiling on the bench at one point and that not making me feel particularly good. Dude, this is the playoffs and you're playing a huge game and you're comfortable enough to smile? Scary dude. Friggin Modin killed us with another goal too. Got most of the rundown on the game from my old man this morning, who told me how an old co-worker Kings fan put the kiss of death on the Canucks by offering him a Linden jersey out of the blue.

All in all though, yesterday might have been one of the best days I've had in a while. It felt like a day you spend when you're on vacation. Great start to the summer of Stones....

game 1 round 1: vancouver 3 - l.a. 2 (OT)

Oh what a day to be alive!

It doesn't get much better than playoff hockey and I'm finding out that all the hyperbolic grand tales I've been told about Montreal and this time of year are not exaggerated.

This city really is gaga over their Habs. It's all over the papers. Everyone talks about the game. And tonight, it was somewhat surreal, as I ventured from spot to spot in Centreville and the Plateau and saw how deserted the streets were during game time.

On St. Catherine's, bums peaked in through cafe and pub windows to watch the games. At the Sports Superstation or whatever the hell it's called, people cheered and chanted with every play in the game like they were watching it live, in person. I caught a part of the second period -- since our cable is (still) cut -- at an old school diner near Beaubien Metro beside a guy who would curse 'sacrement' each time a Habs player fanned on a shot. At one point he turned to me and stated 'c'est du vrai hockey, ca.'

The diner was a beauty. Everyone who worked there was dressed entirely in white. One guy had on the white, paper hat like they used to wear in the '50s. A Gord Van Tighem clone with a handlebar stache and a toothpick in his mouth, haggled the old Quebecois waitress lady about the bill and they traded good natured barbs. He finally walked out, chest puffed out and satisfied with his performance. An old guy with ginormous ears and veiny arms who worked at the diner chopped peppers for 20 minutes, just knocking them down one by one. One guy hidden in the corner of the bar, out of television view, worked his gums with a cup of coffee in front of him. It was like I had travelled through a time machine by walking through the door. Each booth had a tiny jukebox for frigsakes, although I was too self-conscious to sit down and browse through the song selection.

And all these kids and young gangsters wandered in and out and hung out in the booths and were loud but they got along with everyone like they hung out there all the time. One chick in braces who at the age where she was just on the precipice of losing her innocence and becoming broody or serious or sexual, hung off a kid a couple years younger than her and joked to everyone "c'est mon chum." The little dude was embarrassed and he just smiled and couldn't say anything. "T'amerais ca, eh?" she kept joking. The poor kid kept smiling like an idiot. He obviously would.

A friend called me and I was too embarrassed to answer because my conversation would have been in English and I was surrounded by such a French atmosphere that I didn't want my words to break it.

I was only at the diner because I was trying to meet a former co-worker from the newspaper. But I was late and he didn't have a cellphone and I walked into the pub, forgetting I was wearing my Kesler jersey, and just caught all these blanks stares as I searched for him during a commercial. I felt like a harmless zoo animal wandering through that pub, with everyone staring at me in silence with bemusement. I zipped up my coat, watched a few minutes and bounced.

Glad Plecky scored in OT and hope this series goes on for a while. My roommate Freduardo told me that Montreal goes nuts during "les series" and I have to agree.

Quick note: Because I'm watching a lot of the games at pubs, I don't get to hear much of what the announcers are saying or what the analysts blab about. I know that a face-off is called a "mise en jeu" and that delay of game is "retarde la match," but that's about it. However, one thing I do appreciate about watching hockey on the French network is when it comes to the intermissions. RDS has one clear advantage over CBC or TSN or just about anywhere else: Joel Bouchard's hair.

Is that a hair hat?

I swear, I just sit mesmerized whenever he's on because his hair looks like it's a rubber wig or something. It's jarring. I wonder what would happen to it in the rain. I wonder if this guy takes this thing off when he gets home and hangs it on a hook. It's impeccable. It's like impervious to a nuclear explosion. Some alien life form will come upon a post-apocalyptic Montreal and they will clear away some rubble and discover this hairdo. They will take it back to their planet and study it for centuries, but even with all their advanced technologies, they will never be able to conclude its chemical properties.

Second note: Couldn't all hockey commentators and analysts be part of the mafia. I'm thinking Darren Dregher and Gino Reda types, here. Don't they all dress and talk like wiseguys? Honest question here.

On to the Canucks stuff...

I recapped each game during last year's run and even though we got ousted in the second round, I feel like it would be a jinx if I didn't throw a little comment down after each game.

So we got the Kings. This team is kind of... um... scary. They're young. They're physical and they're pretty damn talented. Kopitar scares me. Drew Doughty scares me. And Johnny Quick was pretty stellar tonight. We're definitely in for a good series.

Last year, we caught the Blues in the first round and I spoke about how Andy McDonald made me hold my breath every time he touched the puck. Trees have rings to show their past. During the playoffs, I have shit-stained undies. That's Andy McDonald. That's Pat Kane. I'm not entirely sure who the shit stain guy will be on the Kings this series, but I found Stoll was front and centre whenever anything was happening.

Tonight, as was the case all season, the Sedins bailed us out. And again it was Mr. Hanky. This guy is playing on another level right now. It's like any pass he gives winds up being a scoring chance. In overtime, he set Samuelsson up with that beauty from behind the net, but he had a pass a few seconds before where he whipped a 360-no-looker cross ice right onto Erhoff's stick that was straight up X-Box 360. I couldn't believe it. This guy is seeing things a few seconds in the future. It's a lot of fun to watch right now. That goal they scored on the give-and-go is just the latest in their growing collection of ESP highlights.

You put this chick out there with the Sedins right now and she'd probably pop 25 ginos.

Luongo still looks like he's battling it a bit out there, but he didn't have much of a chance on either of the pucks that got past him. It's too bad we can't throw our d-men out in front of Quick, because they really do a good job of screening goaltenders. Luongo came up huge with that desperation save in OT, but we were also lucky to get there after Edler made the pokecheck on Kopitar when Luongo was swimming ten feet out of his crease, like someone freaking out on acid. Hopefully tonight's win settles him down a bit.

Edler, man. Where did that come from? Looks like he wants to make the jump. He was a beast, just beheading Kings all night. He was dominant. I wonder if it's just playing with confidence, because some games he looks like he can't make a correct decision. If he plays like he did tonight, we might not be so thin on the defensive end. I thought Erhoff and O'Brien played well. Bieksa didn't make any Bieksa-esque blunders and I liked how he was trying to mouth some of the young Kings, who were playing their first playoff games. Salo played decently. Andrew Alberts is a plug.

Up front, Burrows was flying. A friend of mine at work came up to me today, as I was wearing my Kesler jersey and repeated "my friend played hockey with Burrows and he's a cock-sucker. He's a cock-suck-er." He's not a nice guy, I guess. So what? He compliments the Sedins perfectly right now and he was playing that sandpaper role to a 't' tonight. Raymond had a strong game. Samuelsson, of course, had a great game. I like what he's going to provide this team. He's been there before and he's a pretty serious guy. With guys like Burrows, Bieksa and Kesler in the dressing room, it seems like Vancouver was always a fun place to play, but it kind of lacked in professionalism. I don't think Samuelsson will let anything slide. Kesler looked really serious tonight. I didn't think he played his best game. See, I can be somewhat rational when it comes to Kesler. He got beat in the face-off circle by Stoll and Handzus all night and he just didn't seem to want to get involved physically. Hopefully, he just had some butterflies because of his increased role and expectations brought on by that contract. That Samuelsson goal really was huge. It takes a lot of pressure off.

Anyways, it's nice to have playoff hockey back in my life again, even if it means being driven nearly to the brink of insanity by CBC's continuous loop of its only four commercials.

Small price to pay. And I was probably already insane anyways.