Tuesday, March 23, 2010

That's our goalie

I've been horribly busy lately with work, blah blah, and now trying to get ready to take a day off for the event of all events, H2H, has proven to be quite a challenge. However, it hasn't stopped me from watching the games. The 3 buzzer beaters have forced me to take up yoga and attempt to calm my nerves throughout the day. Nameste. But last night, well last night was simply a good old fashion ass kicking, in more ways than one.

I'm pretty sure Larry Murphy isn't permitted to do lengthy interviews with the players. Holland and Babcock are probably concerned with some sort of second hand drunkenness taking place. As a result, they shove him between the benches and limit all conversations to 20 seconds or less. Yet somehow last night, that shifty little bastard became all stealth and out of pure motivation to be in the presence of young James escaped his confines and conducted his first, and last "full length" interview with the protector of Zetterberg.

Larry: Hey yo, Jimmah, you gotta minute.

Jimmy: Under his breath, awe fuck. Sure Murph, of course I do.

Larry: stumbles, drops his microphone, rips his pants, possibly farts, but stands up with composure to start his interview like the true journalistic professional he is. Ron Burgundy is his hero.

Larry: Hell of a game there tonight Jimmah. Great effort. And to think, a few months ago no one expected you to excel at anything other than highlighting Fils hair and organizing Homer's doll, I mean action figure collection.

Jimmy: ummm thanks Murph.

Larry: Obviously this was a big game. Awkwardly and drunkenly shoves the microphone in James' face.

Jimmy: Yeah they're a good team and we were down a few guys, so it was great to go out there....

Larry: Alright enough with this pleasantry bull shit, let's cut to the meat and potatoes. Holy fuck, what was going through your head when you face washed Sidney Crosby?

Jimmy: You know quite frankly I've had enough of that little chicken shits whining and general cunt like behavior. Every time he's held scoreless or in this case enjoys a minus 2 for the night, the diving and whining to the refs comes quicker than a kid on prom night. It gets frustrating watching the bull shit year after year.

Larry: ah Jimmah, on a side note, I'm going to have to ask you to watch your language, this is going on TV, or at least you tube. Please cut down on the references to whining and diving. For fucks sake we don't need to piss off the FCC, you know what I mean?

Jimmy: Seriously, can I go now?

Larry: Well Jimmah as a Calder Trophy candidate, aren't you afraid that your recent behavior and potential physical assault of the leagues golden boy will cause you to lose your invitation to Gary's all boy pool party? I heard it's a pretty swinging time, with the snazziest guys in the league all attending. You'd miss out on spending the afternoon with the likes of Crosby, Malkin, Getzlaf, Green, and even Corey Perry? Are you prepared for the consequences of your actions?

Jimmy: Exasperated and frustrated. Honestly Larry, after seeing him repeatedly cross check Zetterberg in the back, in the head, with no repercussions I had enough. I was concerned about two things, 1. that he would damage Z's perfectly manicured beard, and 2. that he would attempt to punch me in the balls like the little bitch that he is. Thankfully both the beard and the balls made it out ok.

Larry: You and hockey Jesus had a few words after the face wash/punch, what did he say to you?

Jimmy: I can't fully remember, but something along the lines of calling me a doodoo head and threatening to tell Uncle Gary.

Larry: Are you concerned the league will now be out to get you.

Jimmy: First of all, I don't even want to consider the fact that "Uncle Gary" is actually Gary Bettman. How they would have come to that close of a creepy relationship is something I don't want to lose sleep over. As far as fall out from the league, Larry I play for the mother fucking Red Wings. Homer can interfere with the goalie at center ice and a quick whistle means only one composite stick is broken over my head. I don't fucking care about Gary and his team of dick sucking minions. I have to concentrate on helping getting this team in the playoffs. Now can I go please.

Larry: Curled up comfortably in the fetal position fast asleep.

Jimmy: that's 2 minutes of my life I'll never get back.


  1. Classic. My heartfelt thanks to you.

  2. I still can't fathom how disappointed I'd be in my own captain if he'd pulled that shit.

    Stevie Y was years ahead of this D-bag in terms of Honour at this age, even if he had to work much harder for his first Cup (i.e. wasn't gift wrapped from the Commish)..