Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Photo courtesy of Josie Gold.
The Scene: A lonely mountain top, somewhere in downtown Montreal. A weary pilgrim beseeches his Lord for answers.
Jacques Martin: Lord, I have arrived at the end of my rope. I need answers, and I need them soon, or I will lose the only job I ever really wanted.
Martin: Lord. I beg you to give me the answers I need. I'm listening.
Martin: (nearly shouting) Lord! Can't you hear me?! I'm a desperate man!
The Almighty: Yes, Jacques, I can hear you. (sighs)
Martin: Oh, thank...well...You.
The Almighty: So, Jacques, what exactly do you want Me to do for you?
Martin: Well, Lord, I've lost control of my team. I need to know how to get them to listen again.
The Almighty: Jacques, did I not give you Erik Cole?
Martin: Yes, Lord, but...
The Almighty: NO BUTS! (lightning flashes) I gave you my son Erik because he will drive the net and help insulate your small forwards. Yet, instead of using him for the purpose for which I created him, you are wasting him on the bench.
Martin: Oh Lord, but Mathieu Darche...
The Almighty: SILENCE! Mathieu Darche is a loyal and industrious servant, but when I was giving out talent, he was in the looks line. He does the best he can with what he's got, but you can't replace Me-given talent. Look what happened when you actually put Cole on the power play last night.
Martin: Lord, our defence is so depleted, there's not much I could do...
The Almighty: Excuses, Jacques! Every team's got injuries. Look at the Penguins. My son Sidney and most of his talented cohort were missing when you played them, but they controlled the play because they all know what they're supposed to do. Communication, Jacques. Did I not give you a brain and a tongue?
Martin: It's not my fault we're shorthanded so often, though, Lord.
The Almighty: You can't pass the buck on this one. You've already taken three too-many men penalties. That's because My children have no clue when they're supposed to be on the ice, or who they're supposed to be on with. If you stop scrambling the lines like eggs, you might see a difference in these things.
Martin: Lord, I'm trying to put the right forwards out there, but they keep shooting right into the goalie. I don't know how to make them score.
The Almighty: I know it's difficult for you to admit you don't know something. In this case, only I know the answer. It turns out goalies pray more.
Martin: Praying might help us?
The Almighty: Not really. It gets repetitive. Look, Jacques. You're asking a fast, skilled and not overly physical team to play a dump-and-chase, shutdown game. Let Me see, how can I explain this? It's like asking the Queen to mud wrestle.
The Almighty: Yes. Oh. Now, there's nothing more I can do for you today. I've got an urgent call from Ilya Bryzgalov.
The Almighty: (sighs) Yes, Jacques?
Martin: Um, is there any chance I can save my job?
The Almighty: There is a chance. All things are possible with Me. You must repent and put The System behind you. You must use the players I have given you properly and you must lay off the Brylcreem. It went out in the '60s.
Martin: Yes Lord. I'll try.
The Almighty: Do that Jacques. Oh, and Jacques?
Martin: Yes, Lord?
The Almighty: I'm...uh...sorry about the ears. That was an accident. Good luck!
Posted by J.T. at 12:23 AM