Johnny Mitchell is a gem? Who the FUCK is Johnny Mitchell? Are Burke and Wilson paying for this shit? All the money that's tied up in that back end and he's touting some guy named Johnny Mitchell? It's not like they can just stick Jeff Finger in the minors and make his salary disappear.
Jason Blake should play center. This is getting good. So all the pure centers they have on this squad and it's time to take an old winger and turn him into a center to dish to Kessel? Yeah, fucking Jason Blake is the next fucking Marc Savard. Maybe I should be looking to dish Kessel in my keeper, since the Leafs brass probably use these talks as their blueprint for success.
"Do you have a picture of a young boy?" WHAT?!?!?!
Ok, so he is showing us a pic of a dead kid from the pig's poo flu. Sad, I guess, or maybe it is sadder that Don stumbled over getting H1N1 out of his mouth when that's the only thing I've seen on the TV and the front of the paper for the last month.
What's Don's solution to H1N1 you ask? Vaccines maybe? Nope: "Have your own bottle, no more high fives". Brilliant
PUT UP THE TROOPERS I FEEL LIKE CRYING!!
Editor's note: Apologies for the lack of posts, but, really, I'm not the only motherfucker that contributes to this disease. I will also be shutting down my internet for a while, so don't expect much from my bitch ass. I am looking at Williams and Towers to step the fuck up. Either that or this turns into an excuse to go over to my buddy's place and get drunk and post. Only time will tell.
That's for the kids.
That means there was probably only around 4 Grand there at best. Holy shit, this is going to get far worse before it gets better. I can't fucking wait.
Can they possibly break the magic 1000 mark? God I hope so.
GO! COYOTES! GO!
I haven't been less inspired to post my hockey thoughts in a long time. I'm not sure if it's because the hockey world just got repetitive, or if it's just the basic fact that I am a manic depressive that is reaching the beautiful end. I'm sure I could muster up the shazz to post some rant on the Toronto medias complete love affair with anything Burke, or maybe a scathing post regaling the wonder the is "Battle of the Blades". But it just seems easier to roll over and post this amazing picture of Zdeno and his man body. I don't even need to write anything for this. I am your prototypical blogger. Lazy as shit. Someone give me an award.
PS - I think I might be gay. That would be amazing.
So it's the 30th anniversary! Of the Dump? Hell no, this shithole hasn't been around that long, we would've been writing from our cribs! But, my favorite target, Dunn-didely-dunn-dunce Cherry has been spitting drivel over electromagnetic waves for exactly that, 30 seasons!
I would just like to take a moment to honour Dunce. He has not only managed to stay on the air for that long, spitting hogwash and horseshit to whoever will listen, but he has also managed to turn himself into a national celebrity, whom many Canadians would probably vote into office.
So not a ton to report tonight. Dunce seems pretty proud that he called the kettle black. The "kettle" being Brian Burke and "black" being a hot-headed-Irishman-who- values-goons-over-skill. Bravo! I hope he had a potato pancake in celebration.
It feels good to be back.
Sidenote: When I came back to the dump the other day, I got some weird messages from my browser. If anyone else experiences the same problems and still has the nuts to come in here, please let Williams know so we can try to figure out what it's all about.
It's been a short off-season. It was a beautiful summer out here on the west coast of Canada. I enjoyed heat waves and barbecues, break-ups and moves, noise-complaints and sports drafts. It was eventful and emotional. But there comes a time to hunker down and dust-off the childish blogs of yesteryear. Times like 1:31pm PST on Wednesday the 30th of September, aka the eve of the NHL regular season. I'm sick as a dog, so I have nothing else to do. Who takes two weeks off after summer ends anyways?
So here we are, Silver Spoon-style, except my face is your monitor and Williams isn't going to hire Mr. T to protect your ass if I start picking on you.
Me And Mr. T - Season 1 - Episode 104 -
Milk Money Bitches.
Enough of that garbage, let's attack some hockey topics:
Don Cherry is going to be a judge of figure skating on a CBC reality tv series. Personally, I think this is tremendous.
Especially tremendous is the opportunity for Glenn Anderson to do some triple axels. You know he's got it in him.
Is anyone else excited about watching their favorite teams play the Habs this year? Their off-season signings should make it similar to Gullivar's Travels with ice skates. I can't wait to see who on that top line goes into the corner to get a puck. I'd say the smart money is on none of them.
That's about all I have for now. But I would like to share a couple pretty goals with you. This kid has been pegged by multiple people as being a third line center. Just thought I would let you know he'll be first line center by year's end (or the next Darren Haydar). Here's hoping for the former, I drafted his ass in my keeper.
RUSSIA TODAY: How do you prepare for the game?
OVECHKIN: Sex really helps, actually.
RUSSIA TODAY: Is that before or after the match?
OVECHKIN: Before and after.
Q: What do you get when Alexander Semin, Sergei Fedorov, Boris Yeltson and a gaggle drunk sluts all get together to celebrate the human inigma that is Alexander Ovechkin?
This is a video of Alyonka Larionov hosting her own cooking show in what appears to be her apartment. I'm confused. I thought Aylonka was OV's ladybird, and also, this is clearly NOT A COOKING SHOW, and also, and the food looks horrifying. I would say that in the future, maybe keep the show down to one language, and try to have some sort of knowledge of, ya know, cooking. And what was Letang doing there? He was clearly cock-blocking Malkin. Or maybe he wants a filthy 3-way. Ya, that's much more likely. That Kris Letang is gonna slam down on a legends daughter, then point up at the sky in respect to his boy Luc Bourdon. Those two are like Tom & Jerry, except slightly less racist. Wait, What the fuck am I talking about?
Also, here is a photo essay on how Geno is spending his summer vacation. (Note: That's not Aylonka, that's Oksana Kondakova. She is some divorced bitch that Geno uses as a cum rag). And yes, I do realize what a scumbag I am.
I don't know how it happened, but even with 3 separate blog contributors, we managed to go almost 2 weeks without a post. I personally blame 9/11.
There were rumours coming from 2 reliable sources that told me that Spec7ral had posted a rather odd video of himself and a co-host of sorts wearing masks or wigs or something, and drunkenly carrying on. I was never privy to the visual, but I'm sure that if he took it down, it must have really been something. But either way, on with the post...
Where to begin? Do I post about Dany in the Ott, and what a fucking baby that guy is? Or maybe the strong Pronger to the Kings rumour that has been spreading like wildfire all day? Maybe I could talk about the big Game 7 that hits us in just under 2 hours? Or how about none of the above. How about I just leave this blog just the way I found it. Waiting for Spec7al or Towers to smear their waste all over it in the great name of Internet Commentary. Ya, that sounds about right to me.
How about I leave you with a small taste of how The Florida Panther's treat the 38 people that actually come to their games....
Roy said the decision was due to family reasons. Both sons, who played under their father with the Quebec Remparts junior team, will be pursuing interests other than hockey. "Jon is starting a new career right now in music...Frederick is going to Santa Monica to study and give a try as an actor, and I just want to make sure that I'm there to support them," Roy said. The club actually has a vacancy for its general manager post and not its coach, as Tony Granato still officially has that title. The GM position wasn't offered to Roy, apparently.
Fuck, I can not WAIT for the "Princes of Darkness" reality series, featuring the weekend bender coke-off with dad footing the bill.
Can someone PLEASE join Freddy's facebook friends to get some pictures? I need more chest!!
Anyways, the point of this post is to honour the recently deceased the only way HockeyDump knows how. With an ass full of class....
The coffin lid shut with a thud.
The pallbearers clomped through the mud.
The requiem started. The dearly departed
Was dead as a dodo or dud.
Leave it to the Irish to put everything into prospective. Long live the Zezel.
Note: Did you know that Peter Zezel was in Youngblood? Check him at the 2:21 mark. Sex personified.
So where was I? Right, I was reminiscing about my brilliance in predicting everything there is to do with hockey. Some people call my unique ability a gift from God, I say, I am just a man. The smartest man that ever walked this green, green earth.
This last April 2nd, I made a post on this very site where I predicted that The lowly Carolina Hurricanes would triumph their way up the warm playoff road to the Eastern Conference Finals. My bold prediction was not welcomed with open arms. But who would dare go against my amazing words you ask? None other than my linemate of freedom, HockeyDump's Spec7ral himself. In fact here is his slanderous quote...
"Carolina making it to the third round makes me laugh vomit until I puke snot." -Spec7ral
I know. Shocking. But why am I bringing this up now you ask? What benefit could there possibly be for writing this beyond my rubbing my own ego? Could it be that I have some sick need to publically call out a fine and respected blogger like Spec7ral for my own benefit? Am I really that petty? Do I really need this kind of attention? Yes. But that is not why I am posting this. I am posting this merely because, he would have done the same for me. And that is in the HD charter (which you can find to your right). It states:
4. HockeyDump can and will single you out just because it felt like a fun thing to do at the time.
And it did indeed feel like a fun thing to do at this time. And don't get me wrong, that slippery bastard will find any way he can to shove his pen up my cornhole in return. So feel I my work here is done. I leave a crippled man as a king. I don't know many facts in this life, but one fact for sure is, I am the greatest hockey mind this universe has or will ever see. I am the definition of the word, Wonderful.
Also, Spec7ral predicted the Rangers in the Conference Finals.
Everybody loves predictions, especially at this time of year. So here we go, Hockey Dump style:
Detroit vs. Chicago:
All I have to say is Chicago is Anaheim without mustaches....
Chicago is faster than puberty. Detroit is quicker than hair.
Detroit will win (in 6).
Pittsburgh vs. Carolina
Staal vs. Staal. Boring vs. Boring.....except Eric is actually amazingly good.
Fleury vs. Ward. One of them has already urinated in the Cup.
Carolina will win (in 5).
Here's an unrelated slick hockey move to keep you happy:
Now that’s my kind of winter.
The spring burst forth with ferocity, people embracing its arrival as if it were summer herself knocking at the door. I was open to the change in weather. I was eager to hit the city’s parks and patios for liquid refreshments, though the patios held less appeal since the city’s smoking bylaws prevented patrons from carcinogenic imbibitions.
I was not; however, open to the coinciding emptiness that had thrust itself upon the streets that April. The Vancouver Canucks had made the NHL playoffs and a city of nonexistent fans had materialized. There were flags flown from automobiles, jerseys dusted off that hadn’t seen the light of day for years, even more jerseys bought a day earlier, the price tag still attached and blowing in the spring wind. All this accompanied by a general celebratory glow on the faces of imbeciles all around me.
I began searching for war paint immediately. I could not be asked to comport myself in a civil manner with all this tomfoolery going on in my midst.
Now, you see, it's important to understand, I am nothing if not an avid despiser of the Canucks. This despite the fact I grew up loving them, I went through the pain of '94 and stuck with them. The debacles thereafter? I was by their side.
Side note:That handle on the bottom right of the picture above is eerily similar to mine...
But the last few years, the team just lost me. They started playing "D" first, which may be a great idea when you have one of the best goalies in the league, but it doesn't translate into exciting hockey. And if I'm going to watch sports, I'm not in it to fall asleep. That's what I do after crushing 15 beers while watching the game.
But my hatred for the Canucks and what they did to the team I had loved the longest, pales in comparison to my hatred for the sports writers and fans in this city.
Now that the team that so many loved for all of two weeks has been ousted from the Stanley Cup Playoffs, the finger-pointing is at an all time high. The back of The Province screams out in bold block letters "TRADE LUONGO". Other writers say jettison the entire defense. Whispers of people glad the Sedins will not re-sign in the city. Let's blame the Game 6 loss on the refs!
In the few periods I did catch of Canucks hockey this post-season, I can tell you this much: trading Luongo would be huge mistake. The only reason they even made it into the playoffs was that man. They also swept the hottest team in hockey in the first series. They played well enough against Chicago, the 'Hawks just happen to have a linebacker they can stick in front of Luongo that none of the Canucks D-men cared to move or punish. I guess that would have been racist. And the Refs didn't lose that game for the Canucks, the lack of discipline by a bunch of hot-heads did. That and Hatrick Kane, with one of the best single efforts in a post-season game I can recall.
Actually, maybe it wasn't so much a single effort as an effort on the entire Canucks D letting him just walk in and coughing up pucks. Vancouver's defense was fucking horrendous in this series.
Here's what you do, and this is a better opinion than any you will find in the local papers, because I am actually an objective writer on the subject.
Re-sign the Sedins, they are the closest thing to a star that team has other than its captain. With their late first round pick, draft someone that Cody Hodgson has played with, or someone who grew up in BC. Dump Ohlund, dump Salo, lock up Edler to a multi-year deal. Tell Sundin to suck a fart out of my ass. Trade Kesler while his stock is high, he's not that good and that debacle at the end of the game where he came out of the penalty box is unforgivable. Tell Burrows to stop harassing goalies before someone takes his french-fried head off. Get Grabner to practice all off-season with the twinns. Tell Hodson he is the starting second line center in the fall so he better get fucking ready. Go after Cammaleri and Bouwmeester. Call Sakic and see if he would like to have a swan song with the 'Nucks, the Hodson can actually play 3rd line. Dump Labarbera and get Corey Schneider up all fucking ready. Sign Daniel Tjanqvist for more cheap swedish love in the dressing room.
I don't really know where I was going with this, other than to point out that a it's all just fucking speculation and trading Luongo isn't the answer, nor is not re-signing the twins unless you have a bona-fide all star or two to take their places.
Fuck this city, fuck the fans and fuck the sports writers. I am getting so fucking drunk for a real hockey game tonight. I don't have time for this shit.
Cheers, and enjoy the game tonight, I know everyone will be watching.
I'm not sure if anyone stayed long enough after the game to see the locker room interviews, but Bobby decided the best course of action for the team captain would be to cry like a bitch. Actually, to tell you the truth, I would cry too if I completely folded in the biggest game of my NHL career.
Go back to Long Island.
UPDATE: I went over to YouTube to see if I could find a clip of Luongo crying, and I found a clip of him crying after the last time he was eliminated from the playoffs. Smoooooth.