Oh, Thanksgiving. Turkey, stuffing, delicious pie. My father telling me I haven't lived up to expectations, my grandmother forgetting which kid I am. You know, the basics. I was watching the game while baking pumpkin cheesecake and there was a major crisis with my crust, so at some point graham cracker consumed my attention and I momentarily stopped wanting Carey to fail. It was just for a second though, I promise.
My pre-game surfing led me to this:
Ladies and gentlemen, this is the happiest dog in the entire world. That face is the face that I want all of you to have after pie today. I would wish Eaton on you, but unfortunately the dog has claimed him and who are we to argue with the little guy.
Kris is out of his no-contact red and will be back in a sec, so that's amazing. Not so amazing is that Hal Gill was out with a fractured foot, so no Harold Priestley. At least Price was in net. The man has obviously been drinking raw eggs, running 5 miles in the snow every morning, and giving up water in favor of plain scotch, because he is on fire lately. And look at this hair:
So much volume. I wonder where he gets it done.
Game time and massive Ryan O'Byrne, who is like 6' 5" immediately makes a hit on Talbot and I cringe. Sid steamrolls him in retaliation. Max is apparently not worried about going back on the IR and he's checking anything that moves.
Bob Grove: "Carey Price looks thin to me." The holidays are backhanded complement season. Learn to love it.
Maybe Bob saw him on his good side.
Carey makes about 12 saves in 30 seconds and then there's some hugging in front of the net. Crosby is locked in a duel with Price. Denied, denied and then:
Best "Slap me silly, Sidney"
Sid morphs from Scoreless-In-5-Games-Sidney into Stanley-Cup-Sidney as he comes in and uses Mara as a screen, Price drops into the butterfly too soon, and Sid shoots to kill. It's a beautiful thing.
Sid is back in like .5 seconds for another goal and is sooooo damn close. The stat tonight is: Sid's 10th point in 10 home games against the Habs. He probably just scored because of his OCD.
At the end of the first Montreal is trying so hard to score they just stuff Fleury in and hope the puck goes, too. Awkward.
The man puts up with sooo much.
Longest Shift EVER
Sir Bill goes on a two and a half minute shift, determined to make it happen. Geno passes to Guerin who is hooked by O'Byrne as he puts it through Carey's feet. The press is amazing tonight, so:
Godard had scoring chances everywhere this period.
This was not one of them.
Sweetest Holiday Sentiments
Brooks sent out a special thanks to all the troops this Thanksgiving.
He also wanted to send Sergei a special ticket back to Hamilton.
Practicing for the Nutcracker
Sid has been looking for hobbies that involve ice and being awesome, because he doesn't get enough at his day job. His skills were on full display as he came down the left side and did a beautiful 360 pirouette, sugarplum style, while passing to Gonch without even looking. Price's legs parted like the waters.
Just another day at the office.
The third rolls and Godard is back at it. I am dazzled.
"I'm Not Even Mad. I'm Impressed."
Pacioretty kind of fucks up the night, but the result is so artful it's hard to be upset.
Nothing else major happens, except that my cheesecake looks like the cover of Bon Appetit magazine. Win.
Alternate Three Stars:
3. Godard: Don't stop, believin'...
2. Rupp: Hits, hits, and more hits. And what a game face.
1. Remote Camera Guy:
I love you. Happy Holidays.
P.S. That goes for all of you, too.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Posted by Intern Ann at 1:27 AM