Here's Paul Devorski on the phone during the review of the Vermette goal. I kid you not -- this photo is completely unaltered, with the exception of miniscule adjustments made for clarity. Wassup?! (Sincerely, The year 2000.)
And here's Tom Preissing demonstrating how the Devils must feel after tonight's game:
Two out of three Hart Trophy candidates obliterated. You can't help but like that.
There really isn't much left to say about this series that hasn't already been stated -- there were more turnovers than a badly run small business, and no real hatred or drama which made for little buildup during the off-days. This of course, has led to a full-blown obsession with Elisha Cuthbert and her appearance at the SBP during Game 4. I was there but didn't see her. (I was in the auxillary portion of the Scott Norwood Section -- at one point, I almost took out Bob Cole while going to grab a club soda between periods. I think he may have come up to my chin.)
"Elisha Cuthbert is in the building!!!" "She has hair like Rue McClanahan!!!" "She's eating fries!!!" "Everyone says she's dating Mike Comrie!!!" "I heard they're doing it!!!"
Seriously? What the (expletive) is this -- Degrassi: The Next Generation?
Here's a picture of Elisha from the game that I found on some guy's blog:
Hey Comrie: "Thank you for being a friend..."
Apparently the readers found the Cuthbert media coverage to be quite hysterical and "stalker-ish", to use their term. Here's Mike C.'s take:
"It's a hot actress and all they notice is she's eating a greasy snack? I'm betting these are the only things sportswriters care about: Chicks in hockey arenas and food."
Normally Mike, I don't think it takes a woman of Cuthbert's attractiveness to get them worked up into such a state. I mean, if I threw a bouffant wig and a pillbox hat on Lou Lamoriello, making him look like a dreadful facsimile of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, I bet at least half the press box would attempt to flirt with that hot mess.
(Aside -- for future reference, please attempt not to go "Brad Lidge" in your e-mails. It's just too damned easy.)
You've got to wonder though -- if the Rangers are up next, are all the male sportswriters in the city going to be walking around with notebooks shielding the fly on their pants?
Maybe Ottawa will be spared. Maybe they'll play Buffalo in the Conference Finals. Hurrah! More cliches! Anton Volchenkov's nightmares about Mike Grier! Daniel Alfredsson's unfinished business with Jason Pominville! More free-associating fans from the opposition with massive chips on their shoulders! It's more excitement than you can stand, damnit!
More later.
P.S. One last pic for this photo-heavy post: I'm told this cake was allegedly sent last night from a hotel in Times Square to another in East Rutherford, NJ. You have to look closely (photo was taken with a cell phone), but the icing reads, "Ram (a.k.a. Roy Mlakar) loves Boo Boo (a.k.a. Bruce Garrioch)": 
How was this "wildly inappropriate" photo leaked? I'm thinking a lot of time and resources should be spent to get to the bottom of this. I mean, a lot.
More later.
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