Tampa Bay just play attitude proving successful as they take 2-0 lead… Globe and Mail needs to revive The Spike!

Terrance Gavan – Blogger, Savant and Crap Journalist

Holy Cow… why is the Globe and Mail paying a quisling, lickspittle hack like Sean Gordon, whose coverage of the Montreal Canadiens is abysmal at best and borderline nonsense at worst.

Here’s what Gordon had to say after the Habitants lost their second home game in a row to the Tampa Bay Light-Tanning on Sunday evening.

In an increasingly colourless sporting world, the Montreal Canadiens’ Brandon Prust is a refreshing tonic – articulate, pithy, trenchant.

He is beloved by his teammates for his toughness and determination, and happens to be a useful player in the postseason because of his tally-ho-and-a-cloud-of-dust penalty killing and willingness to mix it up. (Sean Gordon, Gob and Pail writer)

Full disclosure, I am a Habs fan for some 50 plus years. But even I am at a loss to fathom such wide-eyed enthusiasm from Mr. Gordon. I can only surmise that Sean has married into the Prust family, or maybe Prust bought him a car?

Brandon Prust Ben Bishop

Brandon Prust is not a popular guy in the dressing room right now… in spite of what Globe and Mail eminence breeze Sean Gordon is telling us!

For those of you who haven’t the time to willy-dilly around the results, the Habs gave up four power play goals to the Lightening en route to a 6-2 loss. The focus has been on Prust’s ongoing battle with the silent pillar, Tampa Bay’s 6’19” goaltender Jolly Green Ben Bishop. The two have a Hatfield-McCoy thing goin’ on, but Gentle Ben is taking the high-road. You see, Ben knows that the playoffs are more important than personal chivalry.

Prust does not. So Prust decided to sweep the spotlight away on Sunday and his actions are directly attributable to Montreal’s collapse after scoring the first goal again. Prust took stupid penalties and then hijacked the analysis at the end of the game in a wide-mouthed, shilly-shally bitch fest at the post-game gab. Prust did not apologize. He took the offensive. And we go again to the toady Sean Gordon… as he explains or allows Prust to explain what was “goin’s on” in his own Game of Moans.

“After the Habs’ 6-2 loss, he made no effort to hide his feelings at the call and about Watson; NHL headquarters will doubtless take a dim view of his frankness,” writes Gordon.

“I thought the original call was kind of soft and I let him know on the way to the penalty box,” says Prust. “He kept provoking me. He came to the box and called me every name in the book. He called me a piece of you know what, a [expletive shitbag? asswipe? dungheap? shinny shit?], a coward, said he’d drive me right out of this building,” he said. “I kept going, ‘Yeah, okay, yeah okay, yeah okay.’ He kept on me, he kept on me. I kept saying, ‘Yeah, okay.’ I wasn’t looking at him. He teed me up. That’s the ref he is. He tries to play God. He tries to control the game and he did that tonight.”

And Prust has never ever tried to command the spotlight. We know this because he got thrown out of the game and as he was leaving he fired his elbow pad at Steven Stamkos (A goal and two assists) who fired it right into the crowd. Some Habs fan is now the proud possessor of Prust’s elbow guard. You won’t find it on E-Bay anytime soon. Unless of course Sean Gordon makes an appeal for souvenirs. We must assume that his rec room is already exploding with Montreal swag.

As a Habitant fan I can only hope and pray that he burns the thing.

Here’s the story lead, which Sean Gordon buried (as all half-assed hacks do, accidentally or on purpose) near the bottom of his endless tome, because he’s either a shill or an idiot.

“I’m thinking we pissed the game away. Great start, our building, got the fans into it, go up 1-0, we pissed the game away,” Canadiens winger Max Pacioretty said. “It’s frustrating.”

Why the Globe and Mail did not nail this story to the spike, and ask someone competent to write it… we’ll guess, but never know. I’m guessing Gordon knows someone or something that allows him to thrive in the offices of the old dowager.

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