I wrote an article about Carey Price a few months back, just shortly after the Habs made their exit in the playoffs. People were jumping on his back and calling for a trade and all this mumbo jumbo about how terrible he was and that he was no longer the star of the future and so on and so forth. (You can read it here at Associated Content)

Jeez… gimme a break. The kid is in his second year, under the media spotlight and in one of the worst cities for public criticism in hockey. If that wouldn’t make you collapse, I don’t know what will. It would be enough to drive me to drink, or do something stupid. Either way, if Price was the problem, he would have been shipped out by now. But he hasn’t, and he won’t for a while. He’s a highly regarded prospect in Gainey’s eyes and knowing him as well as we do now – we know he has absolutely no patience for guys who dog it and don’t chip in. I can relate to that, and  I agree with his stance. So this is the focus of today’s post – players who have been in MY doghouse from years past.

I promise I won't shit on the rug again.

.

Remember these guys? Currently they’ve all been relieved (thankfully) of their duties with the bleu. blanc et rouge.

Mike Ribeiro -This lazy forward with the biggest lips in hockey were sent packing (ahem.. diving) to Dallas.
Sheldon Souray – The cement footed defenseman was left to walk after finally pulling his pants up from around his ankles.
Jose Theodore – After years of pulling his hair out over letting in bad goal after bad goal, he was shipped off to the lowest bidder.
Alexander Perezhogin – Mr. “I’m worth more in Russia” should have considered taking up baseball for more of a lucrative payday.
Michael Ryder – When this big dumb Newf figured out how to score, he was already on another team (looks like his career as a garbage man is really taking off.)
Mikhail Grabovski – Third line talent with first line mentality – I thought this was reserved for players who were past their prime and couldn’t let the sport go?
Patrice Brisebois – Bruce Springsteen wrote ‘Glory Days’ for this guy - they past him by just like opposing skaters did nightly.

Currently, there’s a few dogs on the team right now that I’d like to see put down (I think I’m going to regret using that metaphor later…)

Ryan O’Byrne – People who know me personally know how much I dislike him. He’s a younger, less intelligent version of Hal Gill. If you’ve ever had Gill on your team, you understand my frustration.

which leads me to:

Hal Gill – I’m not exactly sure where this guy fits in to the system. We replaced all our power forwards and energy line guys with 30 goal scorers, which would mean we’re looking for speed and mobility, and then we bring down the average by signing this lumbering redwood tree. My guess is they’re going to place Gill behind Carey Price to force him not to play so deep in the net, and as insurance to stop errant pucks from going in. (He’s our Mr. Sieve)

Georges Laraque - Sure he’s tough, sure he’s French, but he’s NOT a contributor to the play or an energy line guy. I love the guy when he’s fighting and banging, but I don’t like when he’s wheeling aroud the net looking for garbage goals. I’m worried that his personal attempts to become a rehabilitated scrapper may soften his hands and his style, and negate the main reason why we have him out there in the first place. He was given a gift – and that gift is to break faces, not score goals.

Now things could change this season and some of these guys may not be in the dog house for much longer. We’ll have a follow up post (a series) as the season goes on. There will probably be some additions to the doghouse, and there may be some strays set free. In a perfect world, all these dogs would be purebreds – but when the expectations are as high as they are in Montreal, there’s a fat chance of that happening.

I may be in the dog house now, but I'll punch my way out if I have to.

Lanny's Stache - like a foxtail stapled to his face.

How many of you recall the 89 Stanley Cup final between Montreal and Calgary, when a veteran Lanny McDonald vowed to retire and shave off his famous flaming red moustache (beard at this point) immediately following the game?

What are you smiling about...

I do. All too vividly. When the Habs were defeated in 6 games to an upstart Flames team coached by a stammering Terry Crisp, I remember feeling humiliated and inconsolable as I wept when the Flames paraded around the Montreal ice hoisting the Cup and whooping it up. (I was 12. Relax…) Through watery eyes, I watched as the CBC cameras caught up to Lanny in the bathroom where he was shaving off the big red tufts of hair from his face while his teammates sprayed him periodically with champagne.

To this day, I still dislike the Flames. And whenever I see Lanny McDonald and his trademark bushy ’stache, I get angry knowing its hiding that shit-eating ‘I went out on top’ grin.

Stop smiling you big jerk...

I had to wait another 5 years before I’d see the Canadiens hoist the Cup again. Its a long time when you have to fend off Boston every single year to get there.

Everyone has a story as to how they end up cheering for their favourite sports team. Today, I’m going to tell you how I came to be a fan of the Montreal Canadiens at the tender age of 6. I haven’t looked back since – and over a quarter century later, I’m still as passionate about les Bleu, Blanc et Rouge (that’s blue, white and red for you non-frenchies) as I was back then. Here’s how it all went down.

I received my first pair of skates from my old landlord when I was 5 years old. I would play shinny hockey with the older kids from the neighbourhood on a creek that froze over in the winter. At that point, my eyes opened up to the sport, and I finally realized the allure of plunking your ass down in front of the TV at 7 pm EST every Saturday night with the channel turned to the CBC for their broadcasts of Hockey Night in Canada. In those days, Dave Hodge and Don Cherry wore baby blue blazers and the intermission segments were set up in more of a newscast format. I would join my father as we watched a game each weekend, and it became a weekly ritual. Except there was one problem.

I don`t like the Leafs. No matter what my father did to convince me otherwise, the Leafs were too boring for my tastes and lost too often to be taken seriously, which would lead to my interest waning by the middle of the second period. It wasn`t until I saw the explosive talent of this kid from Brantford that I started to pay attention to the hockey broadcasts fully.

That kid was Wayne Gretzky, and that year he amassed a record setting 212 points in a single season. He was my new favourite, and the young and talented Edmonton Oilers became my team. My folks bought me a Gretzky sweater for Christmas and I wore it with pride 7 days a week, 24 hours a day. Now, when I went to the creek to play hockey, I envisioned myself as a mini-Gretzky, channeling his skill to try and outplay the big kids. But there was another problem. I wasn`t the only one – there were 7 or 8 OTHER Gretzkys out there too. I`m not one for being the same as the next guy, so this just wouldn`t do.

One of the older kids sensed my disappointment and offered me some advice. He told me that there were 20 other teams to cheer for, all with players that were as fantastic as Gretzky (well not really, but he was trying to cheer me up). So he talked to my Dad and basically told him that I needed a team to call my own. So that Saturday, he plunked me down in front of the TV and told me to watch a few games here and there to see if there was a team that I could get behind. It took a few weeks, and I had to plug through games featuring Colorado, Detroit, and other snoozers and losers. I had lost a bit of faith – I didn`t want to cheer for a team by default. I wanted a connection with a team. I was too young to express that, but I knew what I felt.

One evening, the stars aligned and everything fell into place. My uncles were over at the house for a visit on a Saturday night to watch a big match up between two teams. I thought to myself, “Great, another Toronto and Detroit matchup. Boring.”

How wrong I was – you see, the main reason my uncles were over was to root for their respective teams, and tonight, it was Toronto and Montreal. Not knowing much about these team from La Belle Province, my uncle sat me down on the couch beside me and fed me all these wonderful stories about their history, their great players and all the championships they had won. Not to mention, they were first in their division, and perennial contenders for the Stanley Cup. I was intrigued, and after the first period I was hooked. Now this uncle of mine was my favourite uncle, and we had a strong bond (mainly because he had two daughters and always longed for a son). We were pretty close, so sharing our excitement over a team was something that I enjoyed.

I remember watching him jump off the couch after an overtime goal, and the passion he had while watching these little Frenchmen whipping around the ice, making the Leafs players look like pylons. I watched my uncle razz my father and other uncle, and I joined in. I remember that day vividly, because it was THE day I became a Montreal fan. I had found my team, and it will forever be one of my favourite childhood memories.

Much to my father`s dismay, I began sporting blue, white and red more frequently and became the black sheep of the family (along with my uncle) at an early age. Everyone else cheered for Toronto. Not me – and I`m a better person for it! I experienced the highs and lows with the team throughout the next 25 years – 2 Stanley Cup wins, the emergence of a young kid who would become the greatest goaltender of the modern era, and then the subsequent collapse of the team in the 90s, followed by a renewed enthusiasm and hope for the future.

If these first 25 years have been this great, I can`t wait for the next 25. And if the first 100 years of the franchise have been this successful, I can imagine how the next 100 will be. All I know is I love my team, and will support them until I`m gone and hanging out with the Forum ghosts in the afterlife. This guy is a Habanero for life.

Go Habs Go.