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Archive for the ‘Colby Armstrong’ Category

We are pleased and deeply honored to present another submission in the Chasing Sidney Creative Challenge. This entry is brought to you by the one, the only, Margee.

Chasing Cindy

The blindfold was removed from Cindy Crosby’s eyes. He then felt the familiar kick to the center of his back propelling him forward and into his coffin-sized cell. As he sprawled on the floor and attempted to get his bearings, he heard the final, decisive thud of the deadbolt lock on the other side of the door. He closed his eyes. In the distance he could hear the drunken carousing of his teammates. Colby Armstrong singing Bon Jovi at the top of his lungs. Jordan Staal daring someone to eat shit. Evgeni Malkin ordering a round of prostitutes for the whole gang.

Here, in his stark gray cell, he did not want to be with them. But, oh, how he wanted to want to be with them.
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The 63rd in our 118-part series.

Colby Armstrong and Max Talbot

Once upon a time, the Devils had a player who had a sense of humor and wasn’t afraid to appear spunky and goofy in the occasional interview. When interviewed for a taste test of the Wheaties that featured an Olympic Marty Brodeur on the box, Brad Bombadir answered Stan’s queries by dribbling milk and chewed up cereal down his chin while giggling uncontrollably. Not surprisingly, he was shipped out to Minnesota where he is now a spunky, goofy sideline reporter. Devils players since have learned the lesson. So we must look elsewhere to fill our spunk and goof needs. About mid-way through last season we found the mythical Fountain of Spunky Goofiness in Pittsburgh, where Colby Armstrong and Max Talbot run rampant over Penguins pre-, during- and post- game interviews, as well as on the incomparable Inside Penguins Hockey, a half-hour, weekly showcase for their insanity.
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First Interchangeable Parts brought you a guide to the hot players on the Devils; now, on the eve of the Playoffs, we bring you the definitive (because we’re always right about everything) how-to guide to determining squee-worthiness in players around the rest of the league. Before we get started, though, there are some terms and conditions. We don’t watch any teams in the west, so they don’t count. We can’t watch the NY Rangers without streams of blood pouring from our eye sockets, so even though they have the odd hottie (hellooo “Handsome Hank” Lundqvist!) they don’t count. Flyers orange is such a heinous hue that anyone wearing it, no matter how hot on the outside, becomes rotten from the inside and is likewise disqualified from consideration. But those exceptions aside, we like to keep an open mind to as many hotties as the league can throw our way.
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–We TiVoed the Penguins-Senators game, and we’re getting the Sens feed on Center Ice. We compose this open letter to SportsNet after their introductory footage of various besuited Pens and Sens arriving before the game:

Dear SportsNet,

Thank you.

Love, Interchangeable Parts

We parse the various outfits in slow motion as they stroll through the frame — we admire Maxie Talbot’s skinny tie and strangely textured suit (it seems to us that he is rarely ever seen in any material that isn’t strangely textured), marvel at how Sid manages to make even the most basic of suit-tie combos look exquisitely dorky, and HELLO! Wow, Wade Redden just gets better with age, doesn’t he? If we were still living in the age of VCRs, we’d have just burned a hole in the tape watching Wade over and over again in slow motion. Less impressive? Daniel Alfredsson’s leather jacket, which is improved only by comparison to the color guy’s even worse leather jacket. We quickly compose another open letter:
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Now that we’ve handed out our Devils-specific awards, it’s time to turn our attention to the league-wide post-season awards. Here we offer our dazzling insight into who we think deserves the “official” NHL awards (and by “dazzling insight” we mean “ill-informed opinions”), as well as some thoughts about the awards the league should seriously consider regularly handing out (if they can have that dopey “Mark Messier Leadership Award”, is it too much to ask for an actual defenseman award?). Since we haven’t watched the Western Conference closely in, oh… say, 5 years, we’re a little limited on commenting on most of the awards (a quick getting-IPB-up-to-speed on the West went a little something like this: “So the Sharks are good, the Kings still suck — wait, there’s a team in Columbus?!? WTF?“), but we’ve never let ignorance get in our way before. Without further ado, here’s how we think the post-season love-fest should play-out.
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