Boys are Stupid.
off the top:
. . . rocks should be thrown. Fuckers.
the score:
I'm not going to give you the tedium of period-by-period play on this one. Each period was the same, essentially. Mostly spent in the Ottawa zone. Not a good sign, especially against the low-scoring, defensive Habs. There were some good players tonight, but only one of them played for Ottawa, and that was Marty Havlat. Caitlin would appreciate the love-in he got tonight. Actually, she
did appreciate it. I got an email with a lot of "mmm . . . Havlat" in it. He was super tonight, scoring the first goal from Hossa and Alfredsson, and buzzing around all night. Lalime was pretty good tonight, too, all things considered. He made some spectacular saves, and was pretty well positioned most of the time. His main problem is that he had a habit of leaving the net, grabbing the puck without listening to his D, and then passing it to a Montreal player. Maybe we should bungee goalies into their nets . . .
You could tell early on that Ottawa (with the exception of #9) just wasn't trying, and I have no idea why; they were battling with Toronto and Philly for top notch against a team that was struggling against Buffalo to stay in a playoff spot. They took a lot of stupid penalties (and by "a lot" I mean "a fucking LOT" and by "stupid" I mean "really fucking DUMB." Vermette and Hossa were the biggest culprits, taking the easy way out instead of using their size and skill to take people down. More about Hossa later.
Poor Mike Fisher tried his damnedest to win it for the boys, scoring a goal with twenty seconds left in the second. I thought this would be the big turnaround for the team. You should have seen the beam on Fisher's face after he scored his first of the year. And it was pretty, too. Well, pretty for Fisher. A typical Flying Fish goal. Unfortunately, the Sens seemed to have lost all jump in the intermission. Honestly, if they had to witness Georges Laracque doing Vanilla Ice's "Ice, Ice Baby" (just like you'd imagine a huge French black guy doing it) like I did, that was prolly the reason. So they just sucked coming into the third, and with Hossa off for tripping, that damned rookie Ryder scored his second of the night. There were some incredibly scary moments as the third wound down with the puck near the Ottawa net, but Patty always seemed to make it back in time. I began praying that there would be no overtime. Rachunek made a last-ditch effort to go down in flames, making three saves of his own in five seconds, two of which must've cost him a little. All to no avail. Begin managed a backhand in Patty's fivehole, and Montreal was winning all of a suddden. I began to wish I'd been more specific about why I didn't want overtime. Then Patty went to the bench, and Ottawa's defense sucked so much that Juneau scored into the empty net, making tonight an extremely poor loss for Ottawa.
Montreal deserved the win tonight. They outplayed Ottawa at every turn. And there were far too many turns. Turnovers, that is. The Senators just played stupid tonight, which was unconscionable, considering that they are supposed to be an elite team. Shit, I've seen a Pens-Hawks game that had more smart plays than this one!
off the ice:
Way to play like ASS, boys. I am super not impressed.
I'm especially not impressed lately with the play of a certain number eighteen. It's like he's realized that he's getting held up, and so he's not even trying any more. Every time he has the puck, he either passes it to someone else and goes off on a change, or dumps it in and goes off on a change. And when he has the opportunity, either offensively or defensively, to use his ridicu-speed, he doesn't bother. Most shots of him these days are of him standing off to the side, away from the play, half-heartedly digging along the boards, or sitting on his ass on the bench. What the hell is wrong with my favourite player? He only has four goals in his past nineteen games. I mean, he'll have to score more than a goal a game from now on to beat his record of last year. I know he's better than that. I'd like to meet him so I can kick him in the butt and tell him to stop playing like . . . well, like
me. Sheesh.
in other news:
*sigh* A long day in legal land today. This trial we've been frantically preparing for these past two months has been adjourned to May because the sister of the solicitor for the Applicant has a sister who's DYING. Generally, I'd be more sympathetic to her, but it's lung cancer, so obviously she's been dying for some time. She could have told us before this. She's just ill-prepared for the trial. We've been trying to get documentation from her for ages now. And we had our witnesses summoned and everything . . .
On the plus side, there's this guy in the plaza who works for one of the jewellery stores here. When I worked downstairs, he would come in to get copies for his jewellery designs. Now, we say "hi" to each other whenever I come across him in the hall, or when he's downstairs having a cigarette. For four years I've been doing this, but I never once knew his name. And *somebody* I know thinks he's cute, so I was determined to find out what it was. Today, I did it. It's Anthony. Suits him. We shook hands. He knew my name, because I used to have to wear a nametag when I first started downstairs [I refused to wear it after a while, and, when I became manager, I threw it out.] We talked for a while. He asked me how I liked working upstairs for the expectorating goobermonster. I told him it was irritating. He suggested I take my boss out to a bar, maybe get him to loosen up a bit. I said no way, he already tried to get me drunk often enough as it was. Anthony laughed and said, "Oh, one of THOSE kind of bosses . . ." So I was pretty pleased with myself. Made an interesting cap to a rather boring afternoon.
The goobermonster, however, is still in high spirits after his vacation, so there were only brief periods where he was blatantly obtuse and I wanted to throttle him. One of them, I was listening to a dictation on the headphones and he was standing next to me and talking to Jen, and I couldn't hear a damned word. It's HIS voice on the tape, and HIS voice right next to my ear. Makes it hard to distinguish between the two, but he gets grumpy if I tell him to go away. It's okay, though. Jen and I have the same opinion about him, so we can vent when we're out of the office.
I have SO MUCH TO DO before I leave . . . and absolutely no inclination to do any of it. At least for today. I'll do it tomorrow. Or not --
RHODE ISLAND IN T-MINUS NINE DAYS AND COUNTING . . . I'm stoked. It's gonna be RAD.
Posted by Ally at February 24, 2004 12:00 AM