I’d like to begin this rant by confirming that as a Montrealer, living in Quebec-Canada, there is absolutely no way that you can escape the wrath of the hockey season.
A land where baby foreskin is severed using sharpened hockey sticks. Every bris comes with a complimentary Guy Lafleur. Mazel tov!
The Montreal Canadiens. The Habs. Le Bleu, blanc, rouge. le Tricolore. Spoon fed to the masses as early as child birth. In my case: Force fed via feeding tube.
Kind of like that Thanksgiving episode of Friends where Rachel fucks up the dessert.
You don’t want her to feel bad because she’s hot so you still eat the god damn thing.
I grew up watching hockey but not actually knowing what the fuck is going on. Now im about 47% in the loop but like 137% outside of the loop. Basically, I’m in the loop that’s in the neighbour’s yard. They have a trampoline.
Trampolines are bae.
During a hockey match/game (what do you even call it?), my back is usually facing 180 degrees away from the television.
Face in cell phone.
Every once in a while I’ll chime in with a random fact like,
“hey did you know Dennis from It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia speaks fluent Japanese?!”
…but no one listens.
I Fucking love the sound of my own voice.
Despite the fact that I claim to be clueless, i still have some sort of inexplicable default emotional attachment to the team and the sport (I guess it’s the force feed tubing). I feel like i’m not alone in this struggle though. Allow me to give you 9 of my deepest, inner-most thoughts when it comes to Hockey:
1) if I’m going to watch a hockey game. It has to be in FRENCH
I’m not going to listen to some stiff up in Toronto who fucking hates Montreal because the leafs are sucking the mayjor hockey peen right now. As he unenthusiastically gives me the play by play of a hockey game (I’m not paying attention to in the first place). Plus, how am I suppose to know we scored if I don’t hear Jean-Guy Francoeur-Gendron (NOT a person that exists I’m pretty sure) scream:
“C’EST LE BUTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!“
2) BUCK FOSTON
See what I did? I just reversed the first letters of each word. What I mean is FUCK BOSTON. Fuck the Bruins. Fuck that behemoth bastard with the shnoz and the bad attitude. The one who almost killed Patches O’Hoolihan that one time. Fuck them. I don’t even care about hockey. I just don’t like the Bruins- the same way I don’t like guys who wear turtlenecks.
3) Montrealers who are Boston fans.
Why? Is it opposite day for you everyday? Is it because you don’t like seeing people happy? Are you the type of person who would steal candy from a toddler right before you punt it across a football field. You’ll miss the field goal though, because the Boston Bruins can go fuck themselves.
4) Am I the only one who has a hard time believing that many women actually like hockey.
I mean I enjoy it-ish. Not enough to get a habs logo tattooed to my lower back, but still, if it’s on, I won’t make a fuss. I know a lot of girls do actually enjoy watching hockey, fair enough. However, the fact lies in the reality that a lot of hot guys like hockey. I made a lot of guys believe I actually cared about sports for this reason because I’m a fucking liar.
5) P.K. fucking Subban
Hi Pernell Karl! (are you shocked? I’m not because I asked my brother (HI STEVE!!!) about 56 times what P.K. meant). Let me say this as politically correctly as humanly possible:
I want your babies.
You don’t even need to have sex with me. I’ll spare you the trauma. I’ll just give you a Tupperware and you can do your thing and I’ll be on my merry way.
Don’t get it twisted; I don’t want your money. I want your genetics.
3 out of 3 sons in the NHL divided by 3 out of everyone dying of a massive heart attack brought on by generations of poor eating habits = I’m liking those odds.
6) Carey fucking Price
This man’s face is so gorgeous. I just want to bottle it up and snort it from time to time keep it in my night stand. That would be totally fucking weird but I have a cousin who would be totally jealous and there is no amount of money in the world could buy that kind of satisfaction.
7) That fucking ”Olé Olé” or NANANA GOODBYE song
Ah yes, the song invented by the European Football Gods and the song with the word ”Good bye” in it. Seems appropriate, right? Wrong. I’m pretty sure these songs are the reason why the habs haven’t won the Stanley Cup in a quarter of a century because anytime the crowd starts to sing this song in the first fucking period usually I cringe. Every time the fans sings one of these dreadful tunes, the opposing team scores. ALWAYS. It’s a recipe for disaster. Call me superstitious because I am.
8) the ”Play-off season diet”
The play-offs (kick off) at the time of year where I am forced to leave the room for the next 3 hours. I can’t be around during these times because you can’t help but actually pay attention. I literally get up to poo 5 times when watching a play-off game. It stresses me out that much. I lose a solid 5 lbs during play-off season.
I fucking love the play offs.
9) Max Pacioretty’s eyebrows
BROW GAME ON FLEEEEEK.
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