December 14 2012 03:27PM
You can all go ahead and admit it, you did NOT see this one coming.
Today was the easiest part of any coach's job. The cuts. And while Team Canada didn't cut as many players as they'd like to, they did cut a lot of them.
(I'm being told I have to stop quoting the Simpsons before FOX sues us, so let's just move on)
December 12 2012 11:52AM
I don't know man, it seems like these days there's just not a lot of love for Mike Vernon. Personally, I've never understood the sentiment, I've always been a Mike Vernon guy, but I do think I know where the disdain comes from.
It's Al MacInnis. And well mostly Ken King. I believe fans were miffed back in 2007 when it was announced that Mike Vernon would be the first player to have his jersey number retired by your Calgary Flames since Lanny McDonald. I don't believe the average Flame zealot necessarily felt like the honour was undeserving, more that on the hierarchy of worthy retirings, Vernon was a few pegs down on the totem pole.
And they were right.
December 05 2012 12:08PM
If you're new to Two Minutes Hate!, let me untangle for you what is most certainly a complex and sinister web.
It's an Orwellian undertaking, devised to penetrate one's inner psyche, massaging scorn for a particular subject until that hatred can no longer be contained by one's own proper sensibilities, prompting an eruption of ire over anyone and anything in the path of the assailant.
Basically, it's where we put into writing how we hate people who have wronged your Calgary Flames. It's pretty hard to read sometimes, as it's a big list.
Over the course of our series, we've profiled traitors like Trevor Kidd and Tim Erixon and called for the heads of our enemies, like Esa Tikkannennennen. And there are several more perpetrators out there with blood on their hands that need to be taken to account.
Which we will. Even if it kills us, Matt Stajan.
But today, we've saved a slice of malevolence for what might possibly be the greatest offender of them all: The Canadian Dollar of the Late Nineties.
November 22 2012 12:57PM
To kick this article off in style, I'm just going to say it right here, for the sake of controversy: Brad Werenka, pictured above, is drinking a beer in public. On Game Day. Probably.
There could be no better candidate for Where Are They Now than Mr. Brad Werenka, because only like six people in the entire world actually know where he is. If you're like me, you assume that after he parted ways with his illustrious career as a premier shutdown NHL defenseman, he would meet his most certainly resplendent post retirement challenges with aplomb and esteem. One imagines a noble Werenka, clad in armor, unsheathing his broadsword and laying waste to a dragon made out of nothing but toxic waste and discarded Def Leppard LPs.
If you're part of the other camp, a bloc of people I like to call the "Kent Wilsons of the world", you function under the assumption that Werenka is in a ditch, facedown, naked and pale in the sleepy community of Has Been, Iowa, where even his mother would say "Yeah, whatever, Bill, or Bob or whatever the Hell your name is"
It's bleak, tragic, and you're all jerks for operating within such grim parameters.
The truth is, Brad Werenka is most likely living in a reality somewhere in the middle of these two extremes. And after I look up his Wikipedia page and also probably edit his Wikipedia page, I will report back my findings so we can all stop exerting so much time thinking about it.
All you really need to know is that some fraudulent punk of a blogger out there has, without any authority to do so, anointed Werenka with his own day of the week. Where does that guy get off?