From my seat in the stand Goons, there is no one stopping the Detroit Red Wings. They dismantled Dallas last night. I don’t know if the Stars are tired from the 4OT game, or if the “Detroit Curse” is in Marty Turco’s head or what, but they looked out played, hustled, and any other adjective you can think of last night. The Wings look like they have all the answers boys.

Speaking of answers. Does anyone know of any player that has played for all 6 Original Six teams? I was watching Chris Chelios last night, and the question came to me. He started with Montreal, though not in 1917, then Chicago, and now Detroit. I am not sure if anyone has ever done it. If I had to guess? I’d say no.

Tonight’s game should be the beginning of a great series. It is also the last night I am unsupervised, so the cleanup of the Army men has begun. I thought this was a pick em series before, but with Philly being short their best defenseman, Kimmo Timonen, and having an inability to find someone to take his ice time; I like the Penguins more and more. Enjoy the games boys and girls.

In my first prediction, well, wish for blood. There was none. There was a little pushing and shoving. As Doc would say, there was a snarl. But no blood. Fighting in the playoffs doesn’t happen a lot anymore. The Habs and Flyers pushed and shoved a little, and eventually the game ended without a fight. That series is now over with the Flyers beating the hated Canadiens last night. They awaited their fate today, and found out in exciting fashion, it would be the hated in state rival Pittsburgh Penguins that stood between them and a trip to the Cup Finals. I have to say, I’m as giddy as a little girl thinking about this series. Or maybe it’s because I am typing this dressed as Little Bo Peep. Either way.

I do not need to tell the hockey fans out there how much these two teams hate each other. Really, it needs no words. They are like cats and dogs. They just do not get along. One of the best games I saw all year was a penalty filled affair on Versus that featured the worst acting job since Elizabeth Berkley in Showgirls. Georges Laraque “lost an edge” and did the worst “oops I fell over into the goalie” routine EVER at the end of the game. They kicked him out for it, probably so there could be no more fights. Truly a great sight. This kind of thing is always bubbling right below the surface when these two teams collide, and I for one will be glued to my television.

I guess I will have to make a new prediction for a cup winner since Montreal lost out last night. I am very excited by that by the by. Fuck them, and Carey Price’s new stupid glove. Their game went to hell in a hand basket, and Price was the reason why. Like I said before, for a guy that is supposed to be unflappable, he looked totally flapped. Pretty sure I made up a word there, but you get the picture. Lapses in judgment, and a weak glove hand from the 20 year old was Montreal’s undoing. In time, this kid is going to be something else, but I think he’s gonna need a few more seasons before anointing him the next Pat Roy up in Montreal. So that leaves Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, Detroit, and either San Jose, or Dallas. I think Dallas ends it tonight, and I get to watch because I am totally unsupervised for the next week….hence the Little Bo Peep outfit. MOL is in Texas visiting her mother, and I am left to my own devices. Killer, I will need a wellness check every other day please. She showed me how to use the stove before she left, so I should be OK for food. Mostly I’ve been using it to slightly melt my green Army guys that have run afoul of the flame thrower guy. What? I am a 33 year old man; I haven’t been playing war in my living room since my wife left. That’s what crazy people do. Where was I? Oh yeah. I think it’ll be Dallas and Detroit with the winner being Detroit, and I am up in the air about the Battle of Pennsylvania.

Philadelphia is getting timely scoring from RJ Umberger, and superb goaltending from Martin Biron. Pittsburgh has so many weapons they can hurt you with it’s hard to pick how they get it done. Crosby has been good, not great in the second series, while Geno Malkin has been superb. Jordan Staal found his game in the back of his closet, and Fluery has made saves when they need it. If the series gets rough, I like the Pens in it. Laraque is a presence, and Jarkko Ruutu is an Uber pest. I think it’ll be a tight, rough and tumble affair with Pittsburgh winning in seven. In the final, I just don’t see anyone stopping Detroit right now. They look like they are firing on all cylinders, and I think it will be them raising Lord Stanley’s Cup next month. Either way, I think the Eastern Conference Finals will be the kind of series us Goonblog fans love. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think the Northern Army is trying to advance on the couch, and they must be stopped.

Live from Goonblog HQ in Acton, MA! It’s the Canadiens and Flyers! Game three should be a dandy. MOL is at the germ factory, and I am at home enjoying my leftover chicken noodle soup from the Chang An in Concord. It’s delicious. Usually, it’s a little bland, but I doctored it with some salt, pepper, and some red pepper flakes. It’s given it quite a zip. In past times when un-supervised, I would have been at the Gin Mill until it was time to report home and pretend I wasn’t holed up drinking for about 4 hours. Alas, I have given up the sauce, and that’s what brings me to tonight’s game.

The Habs series has a real old time hockey feel going to it, for a couple of reasons.
1. The Flyers are the dirtiest team ever. Always have been.
2. Tom Kostopoulos is a bitch, and threw a sucker punch at a Flyer the other night after the oft suspended team scored.

I do not like either of these teams at all. In fact, I hate them both. As a lifelong Bruins fan both has been a thorn in my side at one point or another. I guess if you made me pick who I want to win, I’d say Philadelphia, but honestly, I just want to see some rough old time playoff hockey. I think we may see that tonight in the “City of Brotherly Love.” It’s all tied up 1-1, and TK’s cheap shot has blood boiling. If I am the Flyers coach, I start Steve Downie, and if I am Montreal’s coach, Kostopoulos has to do his dirty work and have a go right off the hop tonight. If they don’t settle this like men right away, and I am a Flyer, I am running Saku Koivu and Alexi Kovalev all night. Both teams’ websites, here, and here, are hyping the bad blood. Hopefully everyone is all riled up. I’ll be here enjoying my soup and a few Pink Lemonades….stupid no drinking…..

If you had told me the Bruins were taking Montreal to seven games when the series started, I would have called you a damn dirty liar. Anyone that saw game one would agree. It was so bad; I thought maybe just asking the NHL if they could concede the series then and there wouldn’t have been a bad idea. Hell, they were in a 2-0 hole before 5 minutes had elapsed in the seven game series. For those of you new to hockey and Earth for that matter, that is bad. It didn’t get much better from there. Boston was flat, and looked soundly overmatched. After all, this was Montreal. A team they had lost all eight regular season games to. They weren’t supposed to be in it.

Game two was a bit different. The Bruins had to come out and play a better game than they had in game one. Honestly, short of maybe one of the Bruins having a nervous breakdown and doing a Ned Braden strip tease, game one couldn’t have been worse, so outplaying themselves in game two shouldn’t have been an issue. As it turns out, Boston did play much better, and stayed with the Canadiens. While they lost in overtime, they played a vastly superior one to the egg they laid two nights before. I think maybe if they weren’t in Montreal, and some of the calls that always go Montreal’s way hadn’t been called, maybe things may have been different. Alas, one can’t blame the referees because in the end, the players need to make the plays. The Habs made more, and sent Boston back home up 2-0.

Game three was a do or die situation for the beloved Bruins. I detailed the day here, but I must say again, the mood was electric in Boston. It really felt like hockey was back in Beantown, or at least, thinking of coming back. Boston played very well in game three, especially goaltender Tim Thomas. He saved their bacon a few times, and the boys rewarded him with a big OT win. Had Boston lost that game, it would have been over right then and there. Sure there would have been another game to play, but it wouldn’t have mattered.

With it being a series now, Boston played a very strong game, but lost 1-0 in game four. It was a back and forth affair, and had it not been for some superior goaltending by the very impressive Carey Price, Boston could have made the series 2-2 heading back to Canada. Unfortunately, they didn’t and they headed back up North down 3-1.

The fifth game of the series was when the black and gold faithful really started to believe the Bruins had a chance in the series. At least I did. These guys just wouldn’t go away. Boston outplayed Montreal soundly, and got timely scoring for a change. Phil Kessel’s tally off the rebound was a dandy, and proof to Coach Julien that he got the message from the three game rest. The previously unflappable Carey Price looked rattled, and showed a chink in the armor. Boston had avoided the reaper’s grasp and would come home for game six at the Garden.

How to describe game six to someone that wasn’t there? Imagine if you will its Christmas, and you really want the Millennium Falcon. Before you can get to that though, you get a new bike, a wicked cool Atari system, some really cool Legos, and then finally the Falcon. That’s game six. It was the best hockey game I have ever been to in my life. Boston just wouldn’t go away. They kept coming, and we all believed. When Marco Sturm scored the fifth goal to win it on a beautiful wait-wait-wait play the Garden went CRAZY. I have never heard sound like that before. Pure unbridled joy for the 17,000 faithful.

All of these games had me believing Boston would win it all last night, and for the first 30 minutes of the game, I thought for sure they would. With the exception of the misdirected goal Montreal scored, Boston controlled that game. They were buzzing and making plays all over the ice. Again Carey Price was superb and kept them at bay. In the end, Boston ran out of steam, and Montreal’s superior talent took over. The 5-0 is not a good gauge of how Boston played, but the scoreboard doesn’t say 5-0* the other team played really well.

So the Bruins season is over. While I am sad, I must say, I really enjoyed this year. Marc Savard is so fun to watch. He is a magician when passing the puck. Phil Kessel really improved this season. Shawn Thornton had a superb second half in the fight department. After a slow start, he had some great bouts after the All Star break. And how about Milan Lucic? Who saw this kid coming? He is a God in Boston right now, and will continue to be a fan favorite for years to come.

Some final notes on the series.

1. The NHL has to do something about the amount of diving penalties Montreal took. Maybe make diving a non releasable 2 minute minor? It was getting re god damned diculos after a while.

2. The Habs fans chanting “Go Habs, Go!” during the National Anthem last night should be ashamed of themselves. I know you are passionate about your team and all, but that was a fucking disgrace. Try to act like a normal human being and show some respect for three minutes. I think their disrespect made me want them to lose even more.

3. This Boston team is a couple of pieces away from being really good.

Another Bruins season in the books. It was better than some prior years, and I think they’ll be good next season too. All I can say now, is Go Pens, GO!

Now. We are in it. Thursday night, Boston looked over matched, and very out played. Last night, while flipping between the BC game, and the Bruins, I noticed the Black and Gold had a lot more life. In spite of the overtime loss, they were still in the contest. After returning from the Garden tonight, I think these boys have a chance.

The evening started with the “Dave” special at the Fours. I had a Miller High Life, while George had a Michelob Ultra. We then moved on to the poppers and wings, followed by the Bobby Orr for George, and the Bambino (a ¼ hot dog) for me. Tasty buddy. Causeway Street, and all the surrounding bars, looked like St. Catherine’s St. as there was a shit load (actual attendance number) of Habs fans on the streets. George and I were seated between a group of four Canadiens fans on our right, and another two on our left. Both groups were really cool. The guys on our right had been at Fenway earlier, and the guys on our left had just arrived via car. The left guys were headed back to Canada tonight for work tomorrow, only to return for Tuesday’s tilt back in Boston. That is a hockey fan. I don’t even like driving to Lowell for Devils games, and these guys are going between two countries for their team. Both groups were a fun bunch, and it made it hard for me to want to punch them out.

After we killed a few beers and snacks, it was into the Garden for warm up. I have never seen as many fans in the building for the skate around, and to say the mood was electric was an understatement. Chants of GO HABS GO! and LET’S GO BRUINS!, cropped up everywhere. George and I were seated in section 12 row 7 seats 17 and 18 so we were close enough to see the intensity in everyone’s eyes. Shawn Thornton was at the redline trying to stare everyone down, and Marc Savard flipped about 10 pucks to kids. Milan Lucic has his own cheering section, much like old number 42 PJ Stock did. It was electric in the building, and it was only warm up.

The puck dropped, and it was clear the Bruins were not going to be beaten outright in their own building. They had an intensity and purpose about them that was matched by their old foes from the North. It was an up and down game filled with intensity and desire on both sides of the ice. When Milan scored at 6:57 the place went crazy! His goal was a real goal score4rs goal, and the Bruins faithful couldn’t have asked for a better person to score. Like I said, he is a God in Boston. At the end of the first, “Sheriff” Shane Hnidy, and Guillaume Latendresse had a big disagreement that led to a fight. It wasn’t much of a scrap, as neither landed many of the punches thrown, but I must say Latendresse is a pussy for not taking of the shielded helmet before engaging with Hnidy.

Boston found themselves on the power play to begin the second because Latendresse was given an extra two for roughing plus the five for fighting, but they couldn’t score. Much like the first stanza, it was an up and down affair punctuated by a Tom Kostopoulos goal in which he was damn near killed by a Bruin while tapping in a puck from his side. TK scored a playoff goal, and by that I mean a goal in which he had to fight for all the space given. I hate his guts, and I hate the Canadiens, but I must give props for the goal, and their resilience.

Period three was another back and forth number. Naturally, any shaky call went in Montreal’s favor, and the Bruins could only take it. Scoring chances were a plenty, and Tim Thomas held the fort for the hometown club, per usual. I haven’t been a big fan of his over the years, but this season, he’s really pulled them out of the fire on several occasions. The Hab fan I was seated next to commented as such, and I told him it was the SOP for the Bruins. Get in trouble. Timmy bails us out. Speaking of the Hab fan, that guy was a good guy. We talked a little hockey; and both agreed Carey Price has a great glove. It’s a shame he got a beer thrown on him. I got a little on me too. Here’s what happened. Bruins won, someone threw a half empty brew. Could have hit anyone. It hit him….and a little on me. Oh well.

The OT was awesome, and I want to thank Marc Savard for slamming home the slapper he unleashed on Price. Boston is back alive in this series thanks to him, and I could not think of a better way to spend a Sunday evening. George is working on seats for Tuesday. Hopefully I am the good luck charm, and don’t think I won’t go to Montreal for game seven if I have to. As it was said on the way out by “Sully” or whatever his name was, “I’ve never had a job I couldn’t get fired from for a game seven in Montreal!” Well said “Sully”. Well said.