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Over the last couple/three hours, I've tried and tried to come up with something interesting to say about last night's 4-1 scrimmage over the Oilers. I started. I stopped. I started again. I got distracted by wanton abuse of a Zamboni. I typed some more. I read what I'd typed. And deleted the whole damn thing. Other than Jeff Deslauriers rockin' the totally awesome old school Grant Fuhr paint scheme on his mask (and playing out of his freakin' mind)...everything amounted to a giant "Meh".
Frankly, you, Gentle and Always Appreciated Reader (Hi Mom!), would have been much better served if the boys had squandered a 39-19 shot advantage over the worst team in hockey and lost. Some of you have told me that I'm much more entertaining when I'm frothing at the mouth in seething rage. Perhaps not coincidentally, so does my supervisor. Then she sends me to the cubicle for two minutes to feel shame.
But there is one thing my feverish and slightly buzzed mind keeps coming back to when not beguiled by a comely schoolmarm (NSFW...glove tap FHF), and that is the ice surface at Rexall Place.
Apocryphal knowledge has long held that Edmonton is blessed with the fastest ice in the League, and after spending three hours watching the Sens whirl, dervish and always twirling, twirling, twirling towards freedom, it's easy to agree.
So, my question to The Emperor reads thusly: why can't we have that? Instead of the usual half melted sno-cone why can't Ottawa take the only thing Edmonton does better and make it our own? Put that ice in SBP and we're damn near unbeatable. All by itself, the sonic boom from The Angry Chihuahua's pantaloons would be enough to reduce our foes to quivering globs of jello.
Damn the suits on the glass and their nipple stiffies. Make it happen, Eugene. I mean, really. How hard can it be to make ice?
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