The Search for More Contributors: Penguins

It turns out that, contrary to popular belief, there are in fact, more than 10 hockey fans. Thanks to an early announcement, we have been flooded by requests to join the MYFO ranks to represent their team. This all makes for great theatre and quality posts that involve little or no work, so Raskolnikov can stop punishing himself now, but I think he kind of likes it. All this week we here at MYFO will be bringing to you the best applications we have received, so let us know what you think: do these guys suck, should we keep them around for good, do you want to see more before making a decision, or do you think you can do better? If you want to give this thing a whirl, email me at LButler36@Gmail.com.

Today: Legend of Vincent Tremblay – Pittsburgh Penguins

Why My Team is Better Than Yours: Pittsburgh Penguins

pens lose

This photo was taken in the visitors’ locker room at ScotiaBank Place, Kanata, ON, after the decisive Game 5 of the 2007 Eastern Conference Quarterfinals. (By the way, did you know that “kanata” is an Algonquin word that means “nowhere fucking close to Ottawa”?)

The faces you see should be familiar if you are a hockey fan. For those of you stumbled in here looking for tips on how to recreate that creepy German guy’s death at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark, these three young gentlemen are Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin, and Jordan Staal of the Pittsburgh Penguins, moments after the Pens were eliminated from the playoffs by the Ottawa Senators.

Those aren’t happy faces, are they?

I’d hate to see what those faces looked like as Anaheim utterly dismantled that same Ottawa team to win the Stanley Cup.

As I look at that picture, I find myself wondering what was going through their minds. What is motivating them as they look forward to this coming season?

Sidney Crosby
Ow. Shit, the painkillers are wearing off. First trip to the playoffs in the NHL, and I gotta do it on a fuckin’ broken foot. Spoiled all my fun. Yeah, whole fuckin’ “Future Of The NHL” thing is spoiling all my fun. Chris Neil should be face down on the blue line right now, but all I can do is rile him up and wait for Ruutu to run him. Does Neil even speak English? I dropped so many f-bombs on him, Rex was blushing, and he has a three-word vocabulary on the ice: “Hey!”, “Go!”, and “Fuck!” Doesn’t matter. I’d just get speared in the solar plexus again. That’s all anybody ever tries with me. LaPierre, that little Islander shit Blake…What’s his story anyway? Two parts Silas, one part Powder? Whatever. It’s like they know I’m the test-tube hell spawn of Wayne Gretzky and Matthew Barnaby. Genetically engineered to be the ultimate hockey player, and then I have to sit on my fun side for the sake of fuckin’ public relations. God, I want to punch somebody right now. Neil, McGrattan, Emery. Yeah, that’s it. Sure, Razor, you were grinning like the Cheshire Cat when you were fighting Andrew Peters. I’d wipe that fuckin’ smile off your face in a heartbeat. Shit. Reporters. Time to put on the dog and pony show for the ungrateful bastards. At least ESPN isn’t here. Every time I talk to those fuckers, I puke my guts out 15 minutes later…

Evgeni Malkin
Oh, no. I was hoping I’d at least get one more round before having to go back home. Mom and Dad keep telling me that Velichkin has stopped tapping their phone lines. What is the English phrase… yeah, right. That’s it. Boris #1 and Boris #2 are going to be waiting for me at the airport. Coach isn’t going to like the injury report. “Malkin, Evgeni: 3-4 months, what is the word? Wicked? Walked? Whacked? That’s it. Whacked in both kneecaps.” I need to get my parents out of Magnitogorsk. That’s all there is to it. Dad isn’t going to like giving up his season tickets. But I don’t trust Gennady Velichkin as far as I can toss a dwarf. Or something like that. I’m going to have to play better than Sidney if I want to get a big contract. Then I can bring my parents to the States, and Velichkin and the Borises can never get to me again. The World Championships are in Russia this year, but they’re in Moscow. I can sleep low there for a while. I still have to go home when that’s done, though. What’s the word Sid likes to use in situations like this? Oh, yeah. “Fuck.”

Jordain Staal
You know what? The plan is still working. Eric has the cover of NHL ’08, Marc will be playing on Broadway by next year, and Tito is still in juniors. I’m doing just enough to stay in Dad’s good graces, without calling too much attention to myself. The Calder might be a bit high-profile, but the Selke would be perfect. Nobody remembers defensive forwards. Eric and Marc can do all they want to try and glorify themselves. Sooner or later, Dad will get sick of their grandstanding, realize I’m the “responsible” one, and the family sod farm will be mine! Yeah, losing sucks, but winning the Stanley Cup in my rookie year would really screw up the grand plan. Wait till next year, right? Yeah. Wait till next year.

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10 Comments

  1. and thank goodness for shootouts!

  2. For obvious reasons, I disappove.

    That said, very well written.

  3. im kinda proud of staalsy for getting arrested for underage drinking

  4. Very nice, but there are a few missing thoughts:

    Sidney: Man, I gotta work on my “snap the head back like JFK on the Zapruder film whenever a stick gets within a foot of my chest” technique. You know, punch it up a bit.

    Malkin: What mean I no get paid in playoffs? Dis shit. Alexei right. Evgeni so out of here.

    Staal: Well, at least I have Eric’s bachelor party to look forward to.

  5. Staal kind of looks like a young Alfredsson in that picture.

  6. Afino: Close but not quite. He needs to be angrier at the disappearing Russians on his team.

  7. Staal doesn’t look nearly #### enough to resemble Alfredsson.

  8. Spoken like a true BLEEPing Leafs fan.

  9. “He needs to be angrier at the disappearing Russians on his team.”

    all two russians, one of which being gonchar who had a respectable four points in five games in that series. and malkin was visibly tired, he was definitely not conditioned well enough to play a full season plus playoffs, the most he ever played for Metallurg including playoffs in one year was 57 games

  10. Hey I resent that Kanata is nowhere close to Ottawa comment.

    So it’s out in the burbs 20 minutes from downtown in light highway traffic, 45 minutes in heavy traffic, it was Ottawa’s way of keeping the team from becoming too french, by putting it as far away from the border of Quebec as possible and still call the team Ottawa.


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