Sports News Without Access, Favor, Or Discretion

The NHL Closer is written by Greg Wyshynski, of FanHouse and The Fourth Period. He is also the author of Glow Pucks And 10-Cent Beer.


"Ready...aim!" "Wait a minute, wait a minute...stop the execution!" "What is it this time, New York Islanders?" "Well, sir, for the last few weeks we've been sucking a mixture of tailpipe and ass: We hadn't won a game since Jan. 22, and hadn't won at home since Dec. 29." "And?" "And while everyone was about to commit us to the draft lottery, we go and beat the Flyers, 4-3, for the first time all season. We're only five points out of a playoff spot! Sure, our offensive depth is thinner than Kate Bosworth on a crash diet, but we're still alive! Someone tell Ted Nolan there's no need for a trade deadline something something!" "A trade deadline what?" "You know, a something sale." "Oh, you mean a fire —- (Bullets fly)."

Vinny Prospal, Proctologist. Speaking of "You Can't Do That on Television," here's something you shouldn't do on television during a live interview whose audio is fed through the arena PA system: Celebrate a two-goal effort in a vital 3-2 win over Montreal by telling your coach to stick it up his poop shoot for a six-game demotion from the top line:

That little bit of sunshine cost Prospal 25 minutes of his life in a closed-door meeting with Coach John Tortorella (assumed to be his target) and General Manager Jay Feaster. Prospal's big night, tying his career-high with 25 goals, came after he was reunited with Marty St. Louis and Vinny Lecavalier. Cue Tortorella: "I love it when players are ticked at me. I'm not here to be the happy man and make everybody happy." I swear to God that last line was stolen from Derek Zoolander.


Buffalo Smolder. Ottawa's top line of Daniel Alfredsson, Dany Heatley and Jason Spezza is held without a point, while Thomas "Buyer's Remorse" Vanek nets his first career hat trick. Buffalo curb-stomps the best team in the Eastern Conference, 5-1, and the previously written-off Sabres are 7-0-2 in their last nine; if the season ended today would be in the playoffs.

Defenseman Brian Campbell says, "The difference to me has been smarts." Oh, right: This must be the introduction to the opposite sketches...

The Red Terror. The Red Wings were an embarrassment in front of Chris Osgood last night in Nashville, as he gave up three goals on four shots leading to a Jimmy Howard Sighting (!) with Hasek out (day-to-day, older than brontosaurus shit). Detroit loses its fourth in a row, 4-2, to the streaking Predators. With Anaheim undefeated since Selanne returned, are the Ducks now the top team in the conference? Will Detroit make a deadline move to return to its Dean Malenko-like unassuming domination? Honestly, I don't know...


Puck Headlines

* The next great arena promotion: Bobble-Fists Night. [Going Five Hole]

* Here's my problem with the dumb fucks that are making the case for neck guards in the NHL after Zednik's Malarchuk moment: Ethan Moreau was clipped by Marian Gaborik's skate last night near the eye. Protect 'yo neck, and still get sliced near the peepers; as long as players are gliding around on Ginzu knives, someone's always going to get hurt. Obviously the only answer is medieval chain-mail and a knight's helmet. It actually might improve Jason Blake's shooting percentage. [Ottawa Citizen]


* I'm convinced the MYFO boys are auditioning to be the consumer action team for a local news affiliate. This time, they take on the utter stupidity and fan-unfriendliness of the NHL's Web store. And introduce a new word to the glossary: "Dicksnuggler," which I imagine is a more amorous cock smuggler. [MYFO]

* Buccigross presents "The 2008 League-Wide Draft Because No One Has Any Players Presented by Starburst Fruit Chews." Please get the NHL back on ESPN so this guy can go back to making Jani Lane references over highlights packages. [WWL]


* Finally, National Post columnist John Moore laments the fact that Canadians just aren't sexy; from "an ill-conceived 1980s beefcake shot of Wayne Gretzky in which the gangly young hockey star's naughty bits are obscured by bubbles" to masseuses advertised as Canadian whose "clients would merely believe she was polite and possibly subsidized by the government." I would like to present a short rebuttal:

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