Ho, ho, ho and a two-hander to the ankles. Jingle bells and my chestnuts roasting on a bloody hot open fire.
Hey, it's Santa here, sitting up here in the North Pole, kicking back with a bottle of Scotch — hey, the milk gets a little much, for crying out loud — getting ready to watch a little hockey. Although I am still trying to figure out just what the hell Versus is.
Having a bit of a problem, but nothing we can't overcome. Turns out we decided to get a creative up here in the Pole and play a little pond hockey. Put Rudolph behind the net to signal a goal. Good idea, right? Well, until we decided to put Alex Auld in net. Now Rudolph's blinker is shot out and if we get a blizzard on the 24th, I'm screwed.
Anyway, looking over my list to see what some folks in the hockey world can expect to find under their overpriced Christmas trees a couple weeks from now:
For the Washington Capitals, a visit from Dr. Kevorkian.
For the Philadelphia Flyers, Santa has a little something special. Day parole.
For the Phoenix Coyotes, a few people out in the desert who actually give a damn.
For Sidney Crosby, one day, just one, where someone doesn't stick a microphone in his face.
For Marc Crawford, a new hobby. You know, for when he gets his ass canned.
For Rick Tocchet, an all-expense paid trip to Vegas.
For Sean Avery, a mute button.
For the Staal brothers, another bachelor party invitation.
For Peter Forsberg, retirement papers and a big thank you.
For the Atlanta Thrashers, relocation. Anywhere.
For John Tortorella, more stupid questions from reporters. His answers are unique, to say the least.
For Gary Bettman, a sense of reality. And a pink slip.
For Mats Sundin, another jersey to wear in March and, hopefully, a Cup ring come June. He is overdue.
For the Nashville Predators, eternal bliss in Music City. I know, I know, but the Dream Fairy has the night off.
For Alexander Ovechkin, a little bloody help. Or a change of scenery next season.
And of course, a little something for Santa. When he swings by Luc Robitaille's pad, maybe the chance to see the missus having a late coffee in the kitchen. In a teddy.
No wonder this guy was known as Lucky Luc.