Let me just start by saying that I am enormously entertained by the shit that was stirred up in that last post by my fellow blogger. I'll have her back until the day I die.
Living so close to Montreal (about an hour away), the logical choice for a favorite hockey team growing up would have been the Habs. The fact that John LeClair, a hometown boy, played several years for Montreal should have driven me to wear the bleu, blanc, et rouge.
Playing street hockey, I could have drawn on The Rocket's aggression, or channeled Boom Boom's shot. I could have taken my hat off and pretended I was Guy Lafleur, the wind blowing my hair back as I flew towards the net. I could have pretended to be Saint Patrick, talking to the plastic goal posts in english and french.
Having family from Quebec, I should have done been a Habs fan until the day that I die.
Alas, I am not. I hate the Canadiens. Strong word. It fits.
Montreal has always inspired a visceral reaction for me. I see the jerseys and I want to get violent. Call that "typical American," call it immature, call it what you wish. I simply do not care.
I see that jersey and I feel my jaw set. My neck muscles stiffen. My respiration increases. I subconsciouly flex my hands. I'm ready for a confrontation.
Some great hockey has been played by both teams over the last several decades. Each team has a proud, proud history. It's compelling to see how much the rivalry has come back in the last three years.
The league would do well to market the living hell out of this series. Enough of the Red Wings or the expansion teams that have made it to the post-season for the first time. Focus on two original six teams that have had their share of ups and downs. Proud clubs that can rightly say they were there when the Stanley Cup was just that, a shiny little bowl that grown men would battle and bleed and cry for.
That being said, I'm going to laugh my ass off when the Bruins thrash the living shit out of the club that has had such a proud centennial year.
New coach, headcase pretty boy goalie, euro-trash brothers doing candy up the nose, supposed "stud" defenseman refusing to answer the bell when he hits someone, a midget for a captain that gets away with more than Gretzky, Lemieux, and Crosby EVER got away with combined, the constant whining and pissing and moaning like a pregnant chick on a humid August day, going on and on about how swollen her ankles are and just how bad she wants to eat an entire birthday cake and then wash it down with the juice from a pickle jar.....
That's what a Canadien player and their fans are to me.
Shut your collective mouths. Go check your beaver traps one more time before tomorrow night. Angle that antennae...just...so...and make sure you can pick up the analog signal issuing forth from CBC's studio.
It will be settled on the ice. It will be taken care of shortly.