2 + 2 = series

I decided to sleep on this one.

Still can't pay attention to the team, lest they wind up losing--which makes it a good thing that none of you know where I live so I won't get some deranged Habs fan coming to my house or place of ork to blast Game 4 at me. Ha ha.

As for the officiating.....it sucks. No, HabsFan, there is NO FREAKING CONSPIRACY to make the Habs lose--so get over yourself please. The officiating is what it is, and it is gard-arful. It always has been, it probably always will be until somebody with actual brains (and some vision wouldn't be bad either) gets into the head ref's chair at League HQ, so stop frickin' whining.

Anyway. Erin Nicks asked me, in a comment on my previous post, for my take on Saku Koivu's eye injury--from a Hurricanes fan's perspective.

I've suffered traumatic eye injury before--not quite as scary as Koivu's injury was, but still scary enough (especially since I was 11 at the time. When you're 11 lots of things like this are world-shatteringly scary). Very very few Canes fans are being assy about this on the boards, and that's a good thing--especially when the few asshats (like the mouthbreathing idiot on letsgocanes.com that said (and I quote) "I sure hope Koivu is alright....but cannot play for a few weeks") get piled on by the rest of us that know all too well about scary-ass injuries.

(Fuckin' Orpik.)

(Shut up, Michael.)

I do have to laugh, though, at the Habs fans (and Pat Hickey) that are making Justin Williams out to be some kind of crazed serial axe murderer because of a freakish accident. I mean, seriously, all y'all in Habs Nation need to get a damn grip. It wasn't like Willy thought "Oh gee, Koivu's bent over--I'll just go ahead and try to harvest his eye!" That's just stupid talk--but then, these are the same people that are screaming and crying that there's some kind of conspiracy in the League office to keep the Cup away from all the Canadian teams, so there you go.

Hopefully Saku will be as lucky as I was, the damage won't be that severe, and he can come back in this series. I also very sincerely hope that he makes a speedy and (most importantly) complete recovery.

Go Canes.

Not out of the woods yet.

That's it--I am not allowed to pay attention to the Hurricanes any more for the rest of their season (which will hopefully last until the bloody bitter end).

And a big hearty KISS MY ASS to Bristol, which is trying to jinx the Hurricanes even more by bringing up a certain playoff record--Gods willing, that record will be broken too.

Of course, they lost what little respect I had left for them when John Buccigross dared to compare Ron Francis to Bernie fucking Federko (whose career wasn't nearly as great as Francis' was)--so there you go.

Go Canes!

(BTW, trolls will get hit with the banstick. Go pollute somebody else's commentbox, you spineless lowlifes.)

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?)

Arrrgh.

You know what blows hearty chunks?

Getting offered a FREE ticket to the game tonight....and having no frickin' way to get there, AND having to go to work too.

Yeah, that happened to me.

Tonight is Game 2. HOPEfully, the 'Canes have gotten their shit straight and won't be pissin' around like they were on Saturday night (gods that game blew--unless you're a Habs fan). I personally won't be there--not by choice, either--so Holly Wilver won't have to hear me hollering "WE WANT KAREN!" tonight. I mean, damn. If they're going to get a popstar, then they might as well get a popstar who actually sings in a band and won't butcher a frickin' tune.

Gerber will be in net tonight. I'm sure the Canadiens are salivating at that, but I don't think that the guy will be as off tonight as he was the other night. Little Ray Whitney's back, too--and thank the gods for that, because we surely need him on the power play.

Just wish Cole was back, too. Fuckin' Orpik.

Go Canes.

(Fuckin' Orpik.)