Hi, Cathal Kelly here of The Star. Good to see my boys make quick work of the Canucks last night. Don’t you just hate the Canucks? Swedes, French Canadians, embellishments, Luongo, those arrogant fans, all in one ball ready to hate. And that Johnny Canuck video – I’ve never been so ashamed to be Canadian.
And didn’t you love it most last night when Mason Raymond was hit and lay sprawled on the ice. I couldn’t help but admire the glorious chants of ‘Flopper, Flopper’ from the always classy fans at the Toronto Dominion Garden. Look at those decent, god-fearing Bostonians taunting Raymond as he’s helped off the ice.
Out four to six months with a broken back? Faker! Serves him right for dirtying my boy Boychuk’s stick. And look this morning, there’s the Canucks, whining as usual about Boychuk’s hit. ‘Late hit’? Whiners.
Now that I have thoroughly propagated the distortions about Luongo, demonized every phrase uttered by or move made by every Canuck, I’ve pretty much worked my way through the team. Think I’ll dig up some dirt on the trainers. There must be some dirt there, there always is. CBC and NBC love it. The Boston media loves it. The refs are intimidated into calling a penalty on any hit by the Canucks and let go all the shit from the Bruins. And I get to make a name for myself. I love my job!
Oh wait, I see one of the Bobbsey Twins has predicted the Canucks will win game 7. There you go, how can one team be so obnoxious, arrogant and dirty? Believe me, I will do everything in my power as a good Irish Catholic boy to make you believe that the Canucks are Satan’s own children. Truth be damned. I’m on a mission. A mission from god.
