In my morning NHL story trolling, I came upon a minor note that the Phoenix Coyotes have added former Sens GM John Muckler to their executives’ box, as he has been anointed the senior adviser to the GM. To my knowledge, having the role of Senior Advisor to the GM instead of actually being the GM has two perks. First, you get to stand against the wall in personnel meetings cross-armed and simply nod your approval or disapproval on any potential transaction. Secondly, you get to ramble on about how hard it was during the war without being told to shut up. I’m telling you, being old has its perks.
Now I don’t know exactly old Mucks is, but that’s only because the Canadian Press article I pulled from TSN.ca didn’t exactly spell it out. (I’m lazy.) But the only reason the Canadian Press article I pulled from TSN.ca didn’t exactly spell it out is because Muckler’s Wikipedia page didn’t do the math for them.
- God Save the Queens
As many of you know, there is a big to-do scheduled for October 9th in Detroit to kick-off the 2008-09 NHL season. It has been dubbed the “NHL Face-Off Rocks 2008” and hoo boy, is it ever going to rule. The reason? The event will be headlined by none other than Def Leppard, “the greatest arena rock band of all-time” (the NHL’s words, not mine). For those readers too young to have experienced the awesomeness that is Def Leppard the first time around, not only did you miss out on glam rock greatness, you also missed the band that penned the most popular strip club song in history perform in their heyday.
As you may or may not have heard, the Wild and dickmuncher agent Ron Salcer are currently locked in a battle over the Wild’s attempts to sign Marian Gaborik to a long-term contract. Gabby will be an unrestricted free agent after this season so it is imperative that the Wild either sign him before the start of the season or be forced to deal with the day-to-day distractions that the “will they or won’t they trade him” situations always undoubtedly cause (I’m looking at you, Mats Sundin, you assclown).
Alternatively, the Wild could ship Gaborik’s goldbricking ass to some other team before the start of the season. I’m not saying it’s the best option, but it may come to that.
What it all boils down to is this: GET THE FUCKING THING DONE ALREADY!
- Over the course of August, the Internets’ most prominent hockey blogger, Greg Wyshynysykyi, ran a series of posts where he asked various people in the community de puck what five ways they would improve the sport. Three things happened:
- 1. We pissed off Ted Leonsis something fierce.
- 2. We beat the topics of contraction, division naming, and shootouts to the point of exhaustion.
- 3. We were appeased by free photos of Ice Girls.
Oh, yeah, one other thing happened. Wyshynynysykyi took one of the best ideas of August before anyone of us other jokers could use it. So instead, we spend the month scouring the wires for other ideas, which meant we gave Stu Barnes more attention in one afternoon than he got in his whole 47-year career. Copycats of the idea ensued, and we, lacking creativity and shame, are ready to jump the boards and take our shift.
To our readers who stuck with us in fucking August – we thank you. September’s around the corner, and for those of you ready to join us after a three-day weekend bender, will find that things will perk up around here in the coming month. But we close August with MYFO’s 5 Ways We’d Change the NHL.
- You see, when there are five of us, we each only have to put 20% effort in.
- Regarding the picture above, Weed has extremely feminine hands.
- Wait a minute. WHY ARE THERE SIX HANDS? This blog is haunted.
Using only the constraints of Nintendo Ice Hockey, I will now explain to you the soul-crushing downfall of the once mighty Toronto Maple Leafs. Continue reading
Mike Brophy, blogger extraordinaire for The Hockey News, took it upon himself in a post published on August 4th to be one of the few people the only person in the friggin’ world to try and attempt the impossible task of defending Gary Bettman. Now, don’t get me wrong, I have casually read Brophy’s work from time to time and usually his work his more than competent. That is what makes this post all the more puzzling.
Yanno, I’m a pretty patient guy. I bide my time. I wait my turn. I give people plenty of room on the interstate when they decide to cut me off.
Which is why when I spent months building Sean Avery into hockey’s badass every chance I could (and I beat that motherfucking horse to death over and over), I didn’t fly off the handle when he decided to intern at Vogue this summer. Hell, I didn’t even do a post on it. But some things, even I cannot stand.