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Archive for the ‘Ilya Kovalchuk?!?!?!? WTF????’ Category

December 15 2010

Well, this sucks.

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Shortly before the season began, we had a short discussion about the unexpected hierarchy of deliciousness of Chuckles by color:

Boomer, in the kitchen, “The green has to go first!”

Pookie, in the living room, looking dully at the remaining Chuckles in front of her, “Information that would have been useful a Chuckle ago.”

Anyway, our point is, Gentle Reader, last night? Was the green Chuckle. But remember, there’s only one green Chuckle per pack. We’ve gotten the green out of the way! Sometime in the next 15 years, we have the red and black Chuckles to go!

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You know how we’ve developed an unnatural obsession with a certain Philly-based snack cake, thanks to the Flyers tradition of “scoring for a case of Tastykakes”? Well, it’s time for the Devils to create their own tradition in that vein. As we embark on a 15-year Kovalchuk-led Golden Goal-Scoring Era, we need to celebrate this emphasis on offense with all due gravitas and respect…

October 7 2010

…which is why henceforth IPB will consider every Devils goal to have been scored for a case of Chuckles!

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3-2-1 Hockey: 13

August 9 2010

Not too long ago, we were all elated because the Devils had signed Ilya Kovalchuk. There was much hoopla and rejoicing, and there was a big press conference (their first one ever!!11!!!!1!), and it was all going to be awesome. And then the NHL rejected the contract. And then we found out that the team knew the contract was going to be rejected but went ahead with the announcements and the “ooh, ooh, buy season tickets!” crap anyway. And then the NHLPA grieved the contract rejection, so we all had to wait for arbitration. And today the arbitration came down in favor of the league. So Victory Euro Mats did what any sane unofficial Devils mascot would — he found a sturdy beam on the patio table out on the deck, and hanged himself.

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The scene: ChucklesNation International airport, in the deserted arrivals hall.

Gary Bettman darts out of a shadowy doorway, slinks around the perimeter of the hall, forages a half-eaten cinnabon from a garbage can, hisses softly at the Ookies, then scurries away.

The Ookies: “We got our cymballs out of storage for that?”

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So… Kovalchuk, eh? Works for us! We asked for change, and we’re getting it in spades this summer, so much so that we’ve almost completely forgotten about the Arnott acquisition. If you can make us forget about that, you’re doing a damn fine job as a change-making GM, so kudos, Lou.

Because he’s going to be ours for the next 10,000 years or so, we figure we need to embrace Kovalchuk. There are a number of reasons why this should be easy for even bloggers as hard-hearted as we. First of all, he’s not Andrew Peters. ::brushes off hands:: Done and done! Welcome to the family, Chuckles! Second of all, we can call him Chuckles. And when he scores, he can score for a case of Chuckles. Chuckles are a rare candy where even the weird dark-purple-flavored color is still tasty. Sure Kovalchuk doesn’t seem like he belongs, but what the hell? Maybe he’s the dark-purple Chuckle and not the weird dark-purple Necco wafer (also known as “clove”. We know!!!! CLOVE!)? Or at the very least, maybe he won’t turn into the weird dark-purple Necco wafer until a few years from now. Because even though we’re really, really excited for a Kovalchuk signing, and we can’t imagine ever not loving our very own Chuckles, we can’t entirely forget that the last time we were this psyched for a free-agent signing the guy’s name rhymed with “Blian Blolston”.

But let us not dwell on such unpleasantries! Now is the time celebrate, and to get that “CHUCKLES” tattoo in gothic letters across our shoulders! Because a gothic-letter nameplate tattoo is forever, as is Kovalchuk’s alleged contract. No one living in ChucklesNation would be caught dead without one.

Ookies and Co. meet Chuckles at the airport, where they perform the traditional dance of ChucklesNation, demonstrating what wonders await those who sign with the Devils instead of the poopy old Kings.

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We can only assume that people from all corners of the blogosphere are flocking to IPB right now to find out our official feelings about our, um, beloved team jumping into the crazy world of high-stakes rental players. Needless to say, we were not happy when we first heard the news. Hey, we’re Devils fans. We don’t believe in guys like Ilya Kovalchuk. But as reality set in with a dull, throbbing ache, we started to do what we do best: look for a silver lining. (Shut up!) So what’s good about this trade? Let’s see…

— We hear this guy can score goals. We suppose that’s good, since the Devils are terrible at scoring goals. And it’s especially good now that his new teammates don’t know how to play defense either. Those 4-0 types of losses will go down a lot easier when they’re 4-2.

— Chico has gone off on Kovalchuk in Devils/Thrashers games this season more than we’ve ever heard him criticize any other player. Hell, he’s been harsher on Kovalchuk this year than he’s been on all other opposing players he’s commented on in his broadcasting career, combined. Chico seems to hate Ilya Kovalchuk. We can’t wait to hear him try to subvert that as he tries to explain how some goal-giving-up shitty backcheck really wasn’t a bad thing, as he is wont to do for all guys in red and black.

— We’re under the impression this guy is not really True Devil material (we know, it’s shocking). This trade will be like a living Choose Your Own Adventure, as Future Captain Zach is faced with a constant battle of good vs. evil influences. His mettle will be tested, but there’s potential that like the Marine battling that weird rock monster, Zach will emerge as even more of a True Devil than he is now. Let’s just hope Kovalchuk’s insidious disinclination towards defense and team play won’t turn Zach to the Sykora dark side.

— Being able to say “we called it!” is always fun. When it became apparent that the trade was a done deal but the Devils side wasn’t public yet, Pookie said, “Classic Lou would be Kovalchuk for Patrice Cormier.” We called it! (*tiny voices* If you ignore that whole Oduya thing.)

— We got Batshit-Crazy Salmela back!

— Kovalchuck rhymes with Chuck the Duck. It’s the little things that keep us coming back for more from this team.

— We hate to say this, but someone has to: the Devils have become utterly predictable over the last few years. We know, this too is shocking. So while we loathe, with every fiber in our beings, the notion of giving up anything more than, like, fourth-round picks for rental players, we have to admit that this trade is at least something unexpected. So instead of seeing the same old fucking shit every night from the Devils until April, now we’ll get to see, at worst, some new fucking shit!

— The top story tomorrow night when the Devils play the Maple Leafs (again) will NOT be Brian Burke and/or Dion Phaneuf. This is perhaps all the justification Lou needs.

–Finally, the brilliant and handsome don was able to offer a perspective on the trade that we hadn’t considered:

lou has the hots for kovalchuck…kinda like a 1930s b/w flick on TCM where a middle aged (or beyond) guy kibbee is infatuated with a young chorus girl…

How can we not love a trade that casts Lou in that kind of light?

Also known as "Lou Lamoriello"

Oh, Lou. You devil! (See what we did there?)

UPDATE:

We think we’ve figured out how this trade happened. We think all the GMs were called into an Atlanta-area church basement, where they sat down with their rosters spread out on gameboards. The air became increasingly charged as the trade pieces were drawn from the big tumbler and announced into the tinny microphone. Sweat beaded on the assembled GMs’ brows.

“A reasonably good — but possibly overrated thanks to the defensive system he plays in — defenseman who is under contract…”

“A rookie who seems to already be settling into his sophomore slump…”

“A prospect who has been banned from his league for repeated attempted murders…”

“A low first-round draft pick…”

Suddenly David Conte turned to Lou and started whispering feverishly into his ear. Lou looked concerned, perhaps even disbelieving. They conferred in hushed tones while the other GMs started to tremble. Could it be…? Is it possible…?

Lou double-checked his board.

Conte beamed smugly.

Then, Lou raised his hand and shouted, “BINGO! I’ve got Waddell Bingo!”

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