MAB: Connor’s viciously patient shootout goal got me all kinds of hot and bothered

OHHHH OKAY DADDY are you kidding me with that Chel move right after his McFlu2018? Get the hell actually out of here. Put the puck off the bar and upstairs from the goddamn Schnucks Rewards sign after casually waiting out Jake Allen until there was nothing left of his already dwindling career. This is why I Oilers, right here. It’s for Connor McMoments like these. It’s for back-to-back-Ted-LindseyAward-winning-fist-bumping-with-Gretzky-hey-how-ya-DOING goals that make me remember just how lucky we are that this dude plays for our team. I thrive on it. I live for it. I need it like oxygen. Get Peter Chiarelli the hell away from my hockey club right now.

I wasn’t going to write because I’m sort of on vacation but then Connor did that thing that he does to me and ya, I had to blog. How was your Wednesday? Mine started with Tottenham beating the piss out of Southampton, followed by me watching from row goddamn eight as the Raptors Kawhi man-handled Philly. But the biggest surprise came shortly after that demonstrative example of utter basketball dominance. I bolted to Real Sports after the game, asked the bouncer if the Oilers were still losing and, without an iota of hesitation, the mother fucker literally said “probably.” PROBABLY?!

Well, your boy got there just in time to watch all 20 of Oscar’s abs missile launch the game-tying goal followed almost immediately by Connor injecting a lethal amount of creatine into my veins. I realize how pathetic this sounds coming from a day that happened in December but that was seriously one of the best eight hours of sports I’ve ever had in my life. The EXTREMELY rare natural hat-trick of victories for ya boy, capped off by me draining a celebratory shot of sambuca right before shoving my middle finger in that son-of-a-bitch bouncer’s face. By the time I got back to my hotel I had a sports boner that could touch the bottom of Lake Ontario. I’ve had very little to cheer about over the last 1-27 years of my life but last night I felt like that Jesus statue overlooking Rio de Janeiro. I’m definitely taking out my aftermath suffering on the VIA train’s toilet right now as I skip over to London. No regrets. Suck my ass, Auston.

The Hockey Game

RIGHT so I didn’t watch like 97% of the game obviously and there’s just no way I’m going back to rewatch an Oilers/Blues 3-2 thriller so there’s going to be even less analysis than usual. Anyways this goal looks like it had “of course it was scored against the Oilers” written all over it:

Raise your goddamn hand if you knew Jordan Nolan was in St. Louis. Raise it even further if you knew he was still in the NHL. If you raised your hands to both of those things, congratulations, you’re a direct relative of Jordan Nolan. What in the devil’s name is a Sundqvist?

They scored again. I have no idea what happened.

We stopped being idiots and finally scored on Jake Allen:

First, obviously keep Nuge forever.

Second, take that ‘A’ off Milan’s deep freeze of a chest and permanently staple it to my boy baby Nuge.

Third, the goal was assisted by Nurse and Russell who, according to Twitter, had maybe the worst first period in Oilers history. They really are a bad defensive pair. There will be a GM dumb enough to trade something of value for Darnell Nurse. We just need to hire a GM capable of pulling off such a simple maneuver.

Okay now I started watching, and this happened:

You’re welcome.

Connor’s shootout move was obviously McMagic but HOW ‘BOUT MY BOY NUGE:

That drag dragged me into SATURN.

Connor scored because he’s a god and the Iceman stopped Tarasenko and Schenn and OH YA we beat the league’s 30th best team let’s go baby.

3-2 (SO) final BOOOOOM.

More Thoughts

It’s not a winning streak but I still won three games yesterday and that actually never happens on the same day, so I’m dancing anyway. Sue me:

5-2-1 under the Cock but really one of those losses was without Him, so it’s actually 5-1*-1.

When you’re slugging Bud Lights at the Pint and “Mr. Brightside” comes on:

THE ICEMAN COMETHED TO 100 WINS:

I’m so happy for Cam, man. He’s been letting in all the shots but you know he’s still my dude. 100 Oilers wins in dog years is like 300 with almost every other team. Stop and realize how impressive this is for five seconds. The Iceman joins Grant Fuhr, Billy Ranford, Tommy Salo, and Andy Moog as the only goalies in Oilers history to have 100 or more wins with the franchise. Five goalies. A hall of famer, two other Stanley Cup winners, and the guy whose wife got pumped by Mike Comrie. Four of the greatest goalies in Oilers history. And now, Cam Talbot. I want him back more than George Conway wants a new marriage.

Connor is eight points away from 300 in his career. I think he gets maybe two tomorrow so he shouldn’t have a problem hitting it on Sunday.

St. Albert Forever:

Not lost in last night’s post-Raptors game/pre-Oilers win phenomena was when the bartender lady tried telling me that Connor and Auston were easily comparable. The venom is real here, man. Doug Ford is spreading his asshattery all over Ontario like the plague. Someone needs to quarantine this god awful dystopian hellscape.

That Teletubbies GIF reminded me of how insanely fucked up that show was. The sun had a goddamn baby’s face in it. They were literally four sexually confused aliens renting Bilbo’s house. We let our children watch this shit but show them MacGruber and suddenly you’re the bad guy.

Me looking back at all the Leafs haters as I walked out of that bar:

And the Nerve of That Fucking Bouncer

He is all the Leafs fans. I’m encapsulating all of them into that previously mentioned VIA Rail toilet that I conceiving decimated. They’ve won some games. They’ve scored some goals. They didn’t trade their talented young winger for a ball made of Play-Doh. We know this. We’re aware. We wish we had your GM. But I’d love nothing more than to borrow Thor’s hammer and pulverize the smirks off their smug-ass faces. They out here acting like the Leafs’ last playoff series win wasn’t in George W’s first term as President. Get lost, idiots. I hope James Mirtle’s Twitter account gets hacked by a Russian Trump bot.

Hottest Take of the Night

Oh, why not:

WHERE’D THE OFFENSE GO, MATTY?! SAY IT! SAY WHERE IT WENT!!!!

Had to sneak a Jimmy Take in here. Have a good weekend, ya’ll.


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