I WILL NOT LAY DOWN FOR YOU.

All last night at work, I stewed about the game. I also cried out of anger and frustration. I was so angry I damn near cross-checked a cranky receipt printer, that's how angry I was.

I was okay by the time I got off work--and then I got home to read comments like these on various of the message boards:

just had to drop in here when i heard you guys thought you would get a 4 game sweep lol."not"2 bad about cole he really hurt us last time.get your clubs ready boys your season is over.

It's over. Deal with it. The Habs coach is Bob Gainey, not Michel, Michael, whatever the hell that idiot calls himself now, Therrien, and Huet will not meltdown the way Theodore did. The Canes may win a game im Montreal but they won't overcome a 3-1 deficit as they do not konw how to play in their own end. That much is clear.

You guys had the Miracle in Molson (we call it the Molson Meltdown) but we can now call this the Rollover in Raleigh.

I'VE GOT YOUR ROLLOVER RIGHT HERE, YOU BASTARDS!

I'm so angry right now--just seething at the overweening arrogance of some of these asshats. I WILL NEVER BOW DOWN, I WILL NEVER ROLL OVER, AND I WILL NEVER. FUCKING. SURRENDER. Arlo Guthrie said it best: "Shrink, I want to kill. I mean, I wanna, I wanna kill. Kill. I wanna, I wanna see, I wanna see blood and gore and guts and veins in my teeth. Eat dead burnt bodies. I mean kill, Kill, KILL, KILL." And no, I don't think that Jim Rutherford will come over, sign me to a contract, send me to Montreal, and say "You're our girl." BUT HE SHOULD, DAMMIT. He should, because even though I can't skate worth half a damn and my husband (bless his heart) thinks that I'll break my ankles if I even look crosseyed at a pair of skates, I will get my big ass out there on that ice and show those arrogant motherfuckers and the team they cheer for some good old-fashioned SOUTHERN HOSTILITY.

AND YOU! HURRICANES! Don't think for a red-hot minute that I'm not angry at you lot. Do I need to get out a bunch of eight by ten color glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining how to play some damn DEFENSE?! What happened to the defense that actually blocked some shots and even generated a little offense every now and then? What happened to just getting down to business and not trying to be "cute"? Did we forget about that sometime around....oh, I don't know, FEBRUARY?!

I WANT SOME RIGHTEOUS WRATH, DAMN YOU! I want that puck piledriven so far down Huet's throat that he'll be farting rubber for the next TEN YEARS! I want Mike Ribiero and his diving-ass taunting carcass gutted from crotch to sternum and strung up from the rafters of the Bell Centre! I want to see guys stood up at the blue line, I want to see Richard Zednik checked clear into RAGNAROK, and I want Alexei Kovalev and all the rest of those arrogant "ooooh, we're SO scared of the Hurricanes--not!" sons of whores to know pain. I want them to know fear. AND THEN I WANT THEM TO DIE, DAMMIT! I want them AND their fans to SHUT. THE HELL. UP! I want them to pay for every last playoff series that they've ever beaten us in. I want them to pay for every last playoff series that they ever might beat us in! I WANT VENGEANCE.

VICTORY OR DEATH!


I don't care about pretty. I don't care about things like justice, or "moral" victories, or anything less than wins on a playoff scoresheet.


SCREW JUSTICE! I WANT A CUP!
That's been my motto all season, and it's my motto now, and it will always be my motto for this team.

(There, Tom. There's your rant. You happy now?)