Saturday, July 4, 2009


Good day folks. After a very entertaining playoff, an ownership clusterfuck, a shockingly sensible draft day, free agent frenzy and the “Nikki – you’re addicted to liquor!”-esque soap opera that is Dany Heatley, a lot of shit has gone down since our last post. I’ll try to summarize neatly here before I get into more detail in later posts.

In the spirit of entertainment then, a reflection on the events of the past few months reflected through the words of… other fucking people.

Nuke LaLoosh’s stream of consciousness from Bull Durham:

Clubhouse reporter:So how does it feel to get your first professional win?
Nuke LaLoosh: It feels out there. I mean, it's a major rush. I mean, it feels radical in kind of a tubular sort of way, but most of all, it feels out there.

Why, it’s the Stanley Cup champion Pittsburgh Penguins! It was damn refreshing to see a winner celebrate with the reckless abandon of a college freshman tearing into his first kegger. Despite Sid the Kid’s animatronic delivery, canned responses and Degrassi Junior High (and not the Next Generation) facial growth, the exuberance and determination shown by the Pens made for a very satisfying conclusion to a mostly entertaining playoff year.

EMT assessment of Ted following the zipper incident from There’s Something About Mary

We’ve got a bleeder!

Hello Nicklas Lidstrom in particular and the Detroit Red Wings in general! I’m not entirely convinced the best team won the Stanley Cup, but I’m absolutely convinced the healthiest team did. The seven game war of attrition with Anaheim was just the start; the attempted Patrick Sharp pube trim of Nicklas Lidstrom with a sharpened stick blade was probably the biggest blow to Detroit’s hopes. Kudos to Lidstrom here; knowing he played in a game days after surgery on his damaged ball puts him in the all-time “Are You Fucking Serious?!?” list of unheralded sports tough guys.

An exchange from Caddyshack

Judge Smails: Ty, what did you shoot today?
Ty Webb: Oh, Judge, I don't keep score.
Judge Smails: Then how do you measure yourself with other golfers?
Ty Webb: By height.

Bonjour Les Canadiens! Bob Gainey had more cap space to play with than any other GM this off-season, and early returns are about as robust as a Richard Simmons squat thrust. Montreal’s new and horribly overpriced forward corps includes such Mini-Pops as Scott Gomez, Brian Gionta, Mike Cammalleri and Tomas Plekanec. These dudes make the Edmonton Oilers look like the 1970s Philadelphia Flyers. Have fun getting sand kicked in your face. I can’t believe some stole Kevin Lowe’s blueprint…

Lloyd Christmas assessing his chances in Dumb and Dumber

Lloyd: What do you think the chances are of a guy like you and a girl like me... ending up together?
Mary: Well, Lloyd, that's difficult to say. I mean, we don't really...
Lloyd: Hit me with it! Just give it to me straight! I came a long way just to see you, Mary. The least you can do is level with me. What are my chances?
Mary: Not good.
Lloyd: You mean, not good like one out of a hundred?
Mary: I'd say more like one out of a million. [pause]
Lloyd: So you're telling me there's a chance... *YEAH!*

Sigh… my hometown Edmonton Oilers! The courtship of Dany Heatley looks and sounds like about a million rejection analogies presented in the sports equivalent of The Young and the Restless. Without getting mired in the details, my summation is this: Ottawa is fucked; Dany Heatley is the very personification of today’s rich, selfish, spoiled athlete (although unlike most he has actually killed someone, albeit accidentally); and the Edmonton Oilers once again (see Comrie, Mike and Pronger, Chris) end up looking both bush-league and desperate. This whole thing is more tired than Brian Burke’s courtship of Toronto media.

And finally… a moment of realization from The Ref

Lloyd: She's my mother.
Gus: She's a fucking Bitch, Lloyd.
Lloyd: You're not supposed to take sides.
Caroline: No, no, no, thank you so much Gus. Finally somebody else sees.
Gus: You'd have to be blind not to see.

Good bye Craig MacTavish! My last post was a rage-inspired tirade that was equal parts vile and crude; eight years of watching your team struggle to compete while the coach maintains absolute job security will do that to you. As flawed as Kevin Lowe’s player personnel decisions have been, MacT’s coaching, as documented in previous posts, negatively affected my mental health. It took a new GM to basically capture the spirit of Gus in the exchange above, recognize the obvious and cut MacT loose. Bon chance Mact; I will miss your bewildered in-game ape gape.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

The Beginning of the End… With Any Luck

HockeySmack has been quiet the last 3 months. There’s been babies, new jobs and other bits in the lives of myself and the Hac, but there’s also been a shitload of one intangible that’s made it difficult to write: fucked up fucking mother-fucking rage. I should explain: I’m an Edmonton Oilers fan. This is not a healthy choice for anyone’s emotional and/or mental well-being, but I live in this fucking shithole of a city, and hockey’s the only game in town, so there you have it. The Oilers are operated like a family-run business, but one characterized by inbreeding, mild retardation, and a total lack of any dissension. They’re like the English Royal Family, except that people actually care about them (with the only thing interesting about the Royals being which slags or racial slurs the two youngest genetically challenged offspring are dropping). In other words, every time I’ve sat in front of my keyboard the last few months the only thing that’s sprung out of my mind has been a huge string of variations of the word "fuck." Funny once or twice, but engaging over the long term? Not so much.

After watching this heartless, confused and leadership-free team drop another crucial game to the unwatchable Minnesota Wild, and begin their inevitable march out of the playoffs I’ve had my fill of silence. It’s time to let loose and express my feelings about this organization, coaching staff, and players. Fuck these fucking cunts. Enough of taking small bites of the soggy shit sandwich these mother fuckers serve up to their fan base: it’s time to go back to elementary school and make a wish list for Santa, with the role of Santa played by the enigmatic Darryl Katz. This must mean that Kevin Lowe and Craig MacFuckwit are the rough equivalent of the cock-sucking relative who gives you a wool sweater with a pine tree on it for Christmas. Good call fuckers. That’s why you’re getting a second-hand vibrator this year. Fuckers.

My off-season wishlist (Yay):

1) Fire fucking Cunt MacCuntish. I’ve had it watching fucking MacToolbag handle the reins the last 8 years. He had a built-in excuse for failure when the club couldn’t compete financially, but now that the team spends money like a coked-up 19-year-old Fort McMurray rigpig on his weeks off, where’s the fucking beef? His over reliance on marginally talented veterans (Pisani, Moreau, Staios), his inability to hold those same players accountable, his seeming hate hard-on for a select few young players, and his inability to generate any sense of urgency in the club should signal the end for this fucking jackass. The team was a clusterfuck from day one, and MacFailure couldn’t get the most out of his players. Enough said. Despite this, he won’t be fired as long as he and K-Lowe are still sword-fighting and re-enacting Brokeback Mountain together. But as this is a wishlist, sayonara fucktard.

2) Goodbye veteran core! I’ve read online speculation that Gilbert or Grebashkov could be traded in the hopes of landing that elusive top 6 forward that will cure cancer, make cats and dogs play together, and lead to an elusive eight place finish for the Oil. Well color me unconvinced. Instead of losing the puck-moving, smooth skating d-man with upside, how about losing the old, over-worked, predictable, can’t fucking skate motherfucker named Steve Staios instead? If you keep Gilbert and Grebs, the top four d-men (including Souray and Visnovsky) look good. Trade Staios for some lube for K-Lowe and MacTaint, or a bag of pucks, or some A535 for Rollie. Give him away! Same goes for Horcoff, Moreau, and Pisani – they are overpaid, and for “leadership” guys, they don’t really provide much, you know, leadership. So, fuck these four guys: off you go you overpaid cunts. I know: you’d need to throw in half the Oiler wives to trade Horcoff and his supersized contract, but it’s worth a shot.

3) Fire Kevin Lowe. This organization is a fucking disaster. The NHL club is a mess. The AHL affiliate has already apologized to their fans for their fucking pathetic play (I don’t’ see the NHL club making a similar gesture to their fans). The scouting staff has a very spotty record assessing talent in the draft. Unworthy, but familiar individuals are rewarded with jobs (Kelly Buchberger) and cap-clogging contracts (see wish #2). The Penner signing was an unmitigated fucking disaster. In short, as much as it pains me to agree with Brian Burke, Kevin Lowe has behaved with short-sighted desperation, eager to make a splash at the expense of making sound hockey decisions. For all of these reasons, he’s got to go. Enough is enough.

That’s all my rage in a nutshell. I’ve fucking had it; bring on the playoffs so the teams with heart and determination get the stage. I’ve had my fill of the pretenders in the local market. Time for some real hockey.

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

The Despair of Fandom

As 2008 comes to a close, I find myself wishing I lived in a different place. It’s not just because of this fucking horrible three week long cold snap which had my dick and balls going on a southbound vacation without me weeks ago; this quiet yearning comes from the despair any sports fan would have if their “teams” were the Edmonton Oilers, the Toronto Raptors, and the Tornoto Blue Jays. 2008 has not been a kind year for fans of these clubs, and 2009 looks no better as these teams prepare to eagerly receive the dreaded teabag of mediocrity for at least one more year. Let’s have a peak under these sordid covers, shall we:

a) Edmonton Oilers – Where do I begin? The Oilers cannot kill penalties or win faceoffs. They carry three mediocre goalies on their roster. They grossly overpay average players. They struggle to beat bad teams. They cannot play with any consistency at home. They have too many undersized forwards. They have no grit. The culture of the organization remains unchanged after nearly a decade of futility and the kind of perpetual excuse making that would have a politician giggling in disbelief. In short, this club is fucked; not in a dirty, sexy way, or even a severe brain injury kind of way, but in a frozen, incompetent kind of way. Fire the coach, fire Kevin Lowe, and make this organization accountable again. If this team makes the playoffs they will get smoked like a huge Jamaican blunt in the first round. If they miss out, they’ll get a shitty mid first round pick. As always, stuck between shit and shit. Good times!

b) Toronto Raptors – Can’t rebound. Can’t defend. Lack of athleticism. No trade assets to speak of. The team’s lone superstar (Chris Bosh if you don’t dig basketball) stopped trying about 10 games ago. The second banana (Jermaine O’Neal) makes $20 million a year, and can’t play more than 3 games without getting hurt. The $9 million point guard (Jose Calderon) couldn’t guard a wheelchair player. They are roughly in the same draft/playoff situation as the Oilers. Yay! Some nights, I watch the Raptors and Oilers lose in back-to-back games. My wife hides in a different room as I rage, throw things, and vomit all over my feet. Fuck me.

c) The Yankees spent $72 billion dollars in the offseason on 2 starting pitchers and a Gold Glove/Silver Slugger first baseman. The Red Sox are still very good. The Tampa Rays will contend again, as their roster is very young and uber talented. The Jays: they signed some cast-offs, lost their #2 starter, and have no fucking shot next year, according to both their manager and general manager. Is there even a point to playing the games next year?

As you might have guessed, I’ve embraced fantanking for all of the above teams. The Oilers might as well do something to attract elite talent, with the draft being the only way this club can do it without overspending for marginal free agents. The Raptors are fucking horrible and should once again strap dynamite to the roster. The Jays play in the most competitive division in baseball. The worst part is the lack of accountability in these clubs; management spins wheels, keeps the same ineffective GMs and coaches, and continues to suck huge sweaty bags of dicks and balls. It hurts to watch as a fan, but I comfort myself by saying hey, it could be worse. Right Detroit Lions and Buffalo Bills fans?


Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Team Wish List

Here is a list of things that might appear on each teams letter to Santa:

Anaheim-for a bad case of VD to hit Brain Burke as payment for the shit storm he left when he departed for the Big Smoke.

Atlanta-someone to play with Ilya Kovalchuk.

Boston-the return of Cam Neely to put them over the hump for a cup.

Buffalo-another RFA offer sheet this off season from the Oilers to ensure they don’t lose their best players to other markets in the future.

Calgary-for Iggy to develop a more marketable persona…like the Blue Blazer (at least according to Sean Avery) and for Dion Phaneuf to move on to the sloppy seconds of Mark Messier, and A-rod. Isn’t Madonna old enough to be his Mom?

Chicago-more games against the Edmonton Oilers and a flavored mouth guard for Caine so he keeps it in his mouth.

Carolina-a firecracker to stick up Staal’s ass or maybe that will be Paul Maurice.

Columbus-for someone to find Leclaire’s mojo.

Colorado-a snow blower safety manual for Sakic.

Dallas-I think we all know….for Ed Belfour to return as his asshole antics pale in comparison to Avery.

Detroit-do they need anything? An economic stimulus package to help their fans afford tickets.

Edmonton-a true first line centre to play with Hemsky.

Florida-free BJ for Jay-bo so he wants to stay.

Los Angeles-a tender to back stop their youth.

Minnesota-entertaining hockey

Montreal-smoked meat.

Nashville-for Radulov to come crawling back.

New Jersey-speedy return for Brodeur to ensure he breaks all of Roy’s records.

New York Islanders-a return to the Captain High Liner jersey logo so they can have a fish and chip promo night.

New York Rangers-an end to the Sundin saga.

Ottawa-an attitude adjustment.

Philadelphia-a great big hell ya that Clarke is nothing more than figure head, and has stopped fucking up their cup chances with bad trades, and crappy free agent signings.

Phoenix-for the Great One to see the light.

Pittsburgh-for Crosby and Malkin to become the next decade long one two punch that rivals the likes of Gretzky/Messier or Lemieux/Jagr.

San Jose- for Joe Thornton to play up to his full potential in playoffs.

St. Louis-to stop trading for Toronto’s spare parts.

Tampa Bay-more forwards and fewer quality d-men as they could do a much better job of supplying teams in Europe with their over paid signings.

Toronto-a goalie with a save % at least in the top 30.

Vancouver-enough pads and pons for the Sedin sister as they mature, and a real GM.

Washington-for the cap to go up so they can keep their team together.

Merry X-mas,

The Hac

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

I Love the Tampa Bay Lightning!

When I was a kid, I loved the movie “The Last Boy Scout.” I didn’t love it because it was well-scripted, had riveting action sequences, or featured terrific chemistry between Bruce Willis and Damon Wayans. I loved it because it was such a piece of shit it was almost laughably wicked. Outside of a premise so fucking stupid you’d have to possess a George Bush-ian suspension of disbelief to get into the movie, the script was cliché-ridden and the acting was pathetic. In other word, this flick was a trifecta of shit, for which it will always hold a special place in my heart.

This brings me to my love of the Tampa Bay Lightning. To say this franchise is the laughingstock of the NHL is kind of like saying Scott Baio is a bit washed up. The most recent Lightning fiasco involves free-agent bust Radim Vrbata taking his ball and going home to the Czech Republic to finish the season. Nicely done. In the infamous words of former NBA player Micheal Ray Richardson, “the ship be sinking.” If Vrbata would rather play back in Europe than stick with the Lightning, now on their second coach, the boat is sinking like it’s got a gut full of Taco fucking Tuesday in it.

The Lightning also put good soldier Chris Gratton on waivers, where he was picked up by the Leafs. Yeesh! That’s a slight upgrade for Gratton as I see it, because I’m pretty sure Brian Burke is going to light a huge stick of dynamite and blow that thing up like Meg Ryan’s lips before the trade deadline.

Anyways, the Lightning fucking suck. Really bad. I’ve already gone into great description in previous posts, so I’ll keep it short here. I’m having an awesome time watching the Len & Oren show at work: rookie GM, hiring the Mullet, 75 free agent forward signings, trading Dan Boyle, firing the Mullet, hiring Rick “the Gambler” Tocchet, and now begins the gutting of the roster. This shit is awesome. I wish I could be a fly on the wall in Lightning management meetings:

“Fuck. Vrbata’s not working out. What should we do?”

“Fire the coach?”

“We just did that. How about we ask him to go home?”

"Sure. We’re gonna have a hard time making payroll this month. Let’s throw someone on waivers. How about Gratton?”

"Sounds good. Is it too late to send Stamkos down? Can we trade Meszaros for draft picks?”

Fucking awesome. I can’t wait until the Lightning finish last, fire Tocchet, hire Jacques Demers, trade Steven Stamkos, trade down in the draft for an extra 2nd round pick, sigh Martin St. Louis to a ten-year contract extension, and then make the players paint the face of Jigsaw from the “Saw” movie franchise on their helmets.

I love the Lightning. And Jim Ballsillie wasn’t good enough for the NHL?


Thursday, December 4, 2008

Sean Avery - Tool or Douchebag?

Jackass. Loser. Asshole. All words that could apply to current Dallas Star and future contract without a home Sean Avery, whose quest to make himself the most famous 3rd line player in NHL history hit fever pitch with a saucy reference to his ex-girlfriends, one of whom just happens to be dating Calgary Flame d-man Dion Phaneuf. Am I offended by the comment? Hell no. If you’ve read this blog, it should be clear language does not bother me, and frankly, I’ve heard and said things far more offensive. What does bother me though is brain dead fuck-tools who think they are bigger than their teammates and organization. In this respect, Avery’s comment finally snapped the bullshit threshold. Big surprise.

So, what now. His teammates clearly hate this fucking douchebag, perhaps even more than his ex-girlfriends. Coach Dave Tippett wants nothing to do with him. GM Brett Hull is angry and looks like a jackass for signing him in the first place( incidentally, this 4 year, $16 million contract is one of the worst in league history. Even if Avery didn’t melt down, he’s a third line player! What the fuck?). Owner Tom Hicks is ashamed. If Avery is somehow cut, he’s going to find it very difficult to find a new gig; teams should be wary of a marginal player who destroys team chemistry, is obsessed with self-promotion, and has a knack for going “full-retard” with no warning signs.

The irritating aspect of this cock-knocker’s career is that he is clearly striving for a fame that his talent doesn’t allow for. Sean Avery has been vastly overrated as a hockey player. Left to his abilities, he would be another faceless NHL pro: loved by local hockey fans, but ignored by the vast majority of the population. Not satisfied with this, he’s trying to create a Sean Avery image or character, which apparently is meant to signify stupidity, arrogance, and selfishness. Avery fails to realize he is nobody without hockey; the only thing that makes him remotely interesting is his job. The rest is bullshit. Where’s Dennis Rodman now? Who knows? As soon as got bounced out of the NBA, he stopped being interesting in most every way. We don’t need a magic 8-ball to figure out where the road leads for Avery.

In summary, it wouldn’t bother me if this fucking jag-off never played in the NHL again. He contributes nothing, destroys his team and embarrasses the NHL, and is generally an attention-seeking loser. In short, he is the reality TV show of the NHL; base, obvious, and ultimately totally forgettable.


Tuesday, December 2, 2008

What Do You Mean No Cup? It’s Been Almost a Week!

Well, the sickening and clumsy Maple Leaf courtship of Brian Burke is over. The worst kept secret in hockey (okay, second worst. The fact that Gary Bettman is a fucking joke is the worst kept secret.) has finally come out of the closet, and now Leaf fans and Toronto media are hailing Burke’s signing as the second coming of Christ, which is kind of funny considering they’ve just experienced the second coming of Cliff Fletcher.

And now what? It’s true to say Brian Burke has largely been successful for the majority of his career. I’ll skip over his time in Hartford (I still love you Whalers!) to the Canucks, whom he resurrected from the depths of shite, and on to the Ducks, where he inherited a nice young roster, added 2 key lynchpins (Pronger and Niedermayer) and won a Cup. That he has somewhat mangled the Ducks roster and salary cap since then is probably irrelevant to Leafs fans, who finally have a respectable hockey guy running the show after enduring the JFJ reign of suck.

The Burke era will not be boring. For starters, he’s a belligerent bully fuck who is self-righteous and indignant when challenged by others (like Kevin Lowe, or even Al Strachan for Christ’s sake). On top of that, he has lots of caps space to play with, the green light to tear the franchise apart in order to rebuild it, and a 6 year contract that allows him the freedom and confidence to do anything he wants, including sodomizing Tomas Kaberle should he see fit. I suspect Burke will restock the farm, and try to stockpile some talent at both the minor league and NHL level. The Leafs are scrappy and hard-working, but clearly lack the talent to realistically compete for a playoff spot over the long NHL season. While Fletcher cleared out some of the deadwood, I think the yard sale will continue.

Will the Leafs win a Cup? If history is any indication, probably not. The Stanley Cup is the hardest championship to win in professional sports, and I suspect there won’t be any Chris Pronger’s falling into Burke’s lap this time (did I mention that was a BRUTAL trade for the Oilers?). At they very least, the Leafs will have an actual plan for the first time in years, and will likely be consistently competitive after some early growing pains. If you’re a Leafs fan, that’s probably a good start; hell, I’m an Oilers fan, and I’d settle for competitive. My team licks pouch.