Teddy Nolan and his Latvian guys are gonna dine out on the goal they scored against us, for the rest of their lives. They’ll be singing folk songs about it in Riga for a thousand years.
If you missed it, it is, without a doubt, the coolest goal I have ever seen:
I know you’re thinking, ‘What’s so cool about that?’ but that’s because you can’t see all the clever in that clip.
I’ll try to find a better lip but the IOC can be real motherfuckers about what stays circulating, so let me explain:
The faceoff is just outside the Latvian blueline. We killed them on faceoffs all day, so them even winning a draw is close to a miracle. But they did.
The puck goes back to their d-man. When it does, their other d-man goes to the bench. He goes off the ice using the door that closest to his net. His replacement comes onto the ice through the door closest to our net, about 50 feet away from the back door.
No one sees him. Well, no Canadian sees the sneaky motherfucker.
The pass goes to him. He’s way past our D. I swear, Carey Price was still saying WTF? when the dude juked him and hoisted a backhander top shelf.
Absolutely brilliant! So good it’s funny.
Naturally, I couldn’t laugh at it until 12 hours after the game was over, and probably would not even be writing about it, had the tricky Latvians pulled off a miracle and torpedoed us.
Maybe we can pull that one off against the Yanks? Using PK Subban as the guy who comes off the bench and scores? And laugh, “Yeah, you didn’t notice him, huh?”
Marina watched the last period with me. It was a white-knuckler for her.
When the ref raised his hand to indicate a coming penalty to the Latvians, the powerplay that Weber scored on to win the game, the puck went back into our end. Price, of course, was skating to the bench. The camera caught Price’s dash.
Not knowing anything about hockey, Marina was vexed. Jim Hughson announced, “Carey Price heads to the bench….”
Marina started yelling, really yelling, “Carey Price! What are you doing? Carey Price, come back! Get back to the cage! Honey, what’s wrong with Carey Price?!”
“It’s okay, honey, he has to go to the bathroom. He has this condition. It’s okay, we know what to do, and it’s better than having Bobby Lu in the net, anyway.”
When Weber scored, Marrina jumped out of her seat, pumped her fist in the air and yelled, “Take that, evil, tricky Latvians!”
For the rest of the game she repeated her mantra, “You! Get away from our cage! Get away! Hit him! Hit him with your stick! Honey, why don’t our guys hit the evil, tricky Latvians with their sticks?”
And, once in a while, she would ask, “Where’s my boyfriend, Sidney Crosby?” To which I would answer, “Everyone in Canada is asking the same fucking question. Wouldn’t you rather have a big, beautiful black boyfriend, like PK Subban?”
All of which reminded me of the first hockey game that Marina ever watched. It was in the Vancouver Olympics, Canada vs Russia quarter final.
Just a couple minutes into the game, one of our guys drilled a Russian, knocking him flying. Marina jumped up and yelled, “Hit him! Knock him down! Rip his costume off and see how much money he has!”
Alas, Marina does not think she will be able to watch any more hockey this year. She does not think her heart can stand it. She wonders how Canadians can survive such stress. I tell her, “Beer!”
Should she change her mind, I’ll pass along any bon mots proffered by the girl!
Now that our girls have, again, conquered the infidel Mairkans – nya nya nya-nya nya, our lesbians are better than your lesbians –
I think we should throw it down to Putin: our girls against your guys.
If we win, you have to stop oppressing queers.
If we lose, you get to fuck Hayley Wickenheiser
What do you say, big guy? That’s as close as you’re ever gonna get to hockey gold.
Game on! Drop the puck!