MAB: Over the line, Smokey!

Before I start, the thing I’ll say about angles and depth perception is they both can mess with your eyes. The human eyes are some of the most pathetic eyes in the animal kingdom and thus are prone to giving us a false indication of what’s actually real. For example, it took us months to figure out the color of a fucking dress. That said, that goddamn puck was over the line, and it furiously cost us a McPoint. We still got the win, yes. But did we really win when McDavid was so blatantly robbed? I don’t know, man. That’s the worst I’ve felt after a win in years.

Anyways, there’s a lot to cover in this one so let’s get to it!

1st Period

We legit ran their shit for about four straight minutes but, of course, we couldn’t solve a backup goalie.

Nothing else happened.

2nd Period

Nothing happened.

3rd Period

We had three fucking shots on goal.

And oh my god if this went in:

We had a breakout with 10 seconds left and my boy couldn’t handle a slow-moving pass, and then in the span of an elderly heartbeat, the Stars almost ended the game at the buzzer. It’s like the ghost of Patrik Stefan himself came back to Edmonton seeking retribution 11 years after his catastrophic fuck up. I almost pushed my TV through the wall.

Game Over

We needed to redeem ourselves after that pathetic excuse of an overtime against Anaheim, and we did just that:


The NHL:

WHATTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT? Listen, how dare you take a goal away from Connor. It’s bad enough that he draws approximately no penalties despite being treated like a fucking piñata by opposing players, but in what world is that not a goal? Seriously, take me to that fairytale land. Is it nice? Are there no taxes or gun violence or racism? I’d love to visit someday! Sounds incredible, you turbo blind idiot mouth breathing cartons of milk. Look at where referee Marc Joannette was positioned when the puck crossed the line:

How the hell’s he supposed to see if the puck crossed the line while standing where Lucic usually screens the goalie? Never mind that Gavin Bayreuther’s stick is clearly interfering with Joannette’s line of sight.

Alright, I’m stretching now, but come on. You have angles upon angles upon ANGLES to review, yet me and Hank and Pizza Trav and Gary from Clareview and my legally blind grandfather can clearly see the white ice on the other side of the puck with our HD televisions. You’re saying the equipment the NHL pays Jordan Belfort amounts of money for PLUS the people they pay to responsibly make a decision in Toronto’s stupid ass war room can’t see that the puck clearly crossed the line?

We won anyway.

That pass from Leon was absolutely glorious. That was Oscar’s first goal of the year. I wish I was happier about this, I really do. And I know that two points are more important than McPoints and all that ya ya, whatever. Are they, though? Because I woke up today and didn’t think about beating Dallas’s AHL defense 1-0 in overtime. I woke up today and couldn’t think about anything other than Connor getting robbed of his 34th McPoint of the year. Not to mention his 14th goal. If Connor ends the season one shy of 50 I’ll personally send Peter Chiarelli to trade Marc Joannette’s house.

1-0 final.


This is something for sure thought I’d say two months ago while Koskinen was letting in shots from Ardrossan: Thank God for Mikko.

We have to let him do his thing now. There’s no choice. He’s winning. Cam’s losing. This is the circumstance we’re in. We’re getting timely saves from the KHL backup and our three-year starter looks uncomfortable when the puck hits him directly in the chest. Cam’s gotta be looking at Ryan Strome going damn, do me next.


I want to be optimistic, but ya. Let’s be realistic for five seconds and remember that this organization has given us no reason to be optimistic about anything. And while the early numbers look good, it’s worth remembering that Anders Nilsson had basically the exact same stats just three years ago, and he looked like a hidden gem in goal until he promptly shit the sheets. So, ya. This has been great so far. But let’s give it more than a few weeks.

Points in three of four during the Cock Era, I guess. That’s nice.

We’ve scored eight goals in four games during that stretch, however.

Oh and meanwhile, Vegas is dumping eight on Chicago, Patty Laine just recently made a pastor the richest person in Winnipeg, Elias Pettersson refuses to go away, and Calgary looks like every nightmare I’ve ever had. They’ve buried six or more goals in three of their last four games. Johnny Lady Byng has eight points in his last five. Elite centre Sam Bennett might even be able to complete a proper pull-up. And meanwhile, the last three wingers to play with Connor and Leon have been a PTO journeyman, an undrafted college free agent, and a career minor leaguer. If you start a Kijiji ad saying you’re a beer league winger looking for a chance there’s a 50% chance you could play on our first line next week.

I’m kinda tired of getting boned by the refs, to be honest.

Ryan Spooner has been one of the most forgettable Oilers of all time, sitting just slightly above Jussi Jokinen for the least relevant since 2015 at the moment, and meanwhile, Ryan Strome has three points in six games with the Rangers. It is not out of the realm of possibilities that Peter Chiarelli has potentially lost two different Ryan Strome trades in 16 months. Live look at what Bob needs to do to his phone:

Sorry, Bob’s busy employing his wife so she can tell a story about how we were good in the 80s:

Grit and Glory!* The untold story we’ve heard 450 times during the Katz Era alone, emceed by our CEO’s wife.

*Only applicable from 1980-1990 because then it was just grit, and then it was neither grit nor glory, and now grit is pretty much useless anyway.

“Our loveable lynx” look, I don’t care for mascots one bit, but to call that acid trip of an animal loveable is simply delusional. We got Gritty over in Philly becoming probably the most electrifying mascot in the history of sports and our lynx is being defined by our own organization as loveable. We couldn’t even mascot right. I’d trade Daryl Katz’s entire fucking box and throw in that piece of shit band he hired for literally one game of Gritty. Look at this psychopath:

The Flyers are 4,000 points out of a playoff spot and have fired everyone in existence and their crowds are still doing somersaults every night because their mascot who came right out of a factory in Chernobyl loves rally towels more than the Toronto Media loves Auston Matthews and oh my god he’s back:

Hottest Take of the Night

Coming right to you from the Canucks’ owner himself:

Love this. Not the take, it’s nuclear junk. But I love that their owner has a Twitter account. Out there Tweeting about the game, showing people that he exists and cares. Imagine if Daryl had Twitter? I’d be blocked three years ago.

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