Danny Briere Can Do Whatever He Pleases and Claude Giroux is Hate F%@$ing The League
Scott Hartnell has some fun with Claude Giroux and Pierre McGuire during a pre-game interview, via (@dugmclaughlin)
Unbeknownst to fans, NBC and the Devils, the Flyers pushed the start time of yesterday’s game back to 4 p.m.
Not that showing up an hour late really mattered, because the Flyers are much better than the Devils.
The O and B were outshot 11-0 in the first 10 minutes of the game… they then outshot the Devils 36-15 the rest of the way. 36-15.
You magic-handed animal you. Briere scored 16 goals in 70 regular season games this year. He has scored seven in seven playoff games. Yesterday’s two goals were the 50th and 51st of his postseason career. He now has 106 points in 104 career playoff games. In fact – here’s a fun stat – dating back to 2005, Briere has no more than two fewer points than playoff games played in any of those years, which means that his outlandish career playoff numbers don't come from one or two outlying years. He can essentially be counted on for a point-per-game in the ‘offs, and has been performing at that clip for seven consecutive years. Scary.
Yesterday’s first goal (for both Danny and the Flyers) was eerily reminiscent of the Flyers’ first goal of the Penguins series. Both were breakaways, with the team trailing, to put the Flyers on the board.
Then Briere became the first player ever (unconfirmed) to score two overtime goals in the same game. His first goal was disallowed, because, you know, he kicked it in. So he decided to fucking score again. Why not– he’s Danny Briere and it’s the playoffs and he can do whatever the fuck he damn well pleases.
As reader Chris pointed out, Briere was more prolific in overtime than the Phillies were in three hours of useless baseball yesterday:
That's actually true. Briere found the back of the net as many times in five minutes of sudden-death hockey than your $180 million baseball team had hits on a sun-splashed afternoon. I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry, but for some reason my dick hurts just thinking about that sort of impotence. Though now we’re getting into a whole different post, so let’s just move on…
He thought he was interfered with on Briere’s game-winning goal: [transcription via the Flyers’ city-leading PR department]
Q: Was there contact on that last goal?
"Yeah, the referees have a hard job. They see it live. Definitely van Riemsdyk pushed my stick over when he came across, but he didn't do it on purpose. I think he was just going in front of the net, but it prevented me to make the save. It goes so quick like that for the referees, especially after (inaudible) and they wouldn't do that twice in Philly, that's for sure."
He forgot to mention that, as is usually the case with the sister-in-law fucker, he was out of the crease:
Stay at home, old man! And get off JVR’s lawn! Riemer doesn’t assert himself often, so when he does let’s not prod him.
He loves the second round of the playoffs. I’m not sure what it is about the end of April, but that’s when 21’s balls have their seasonal descension.
In fact, I have a simple test to gauge whether his nuts are dropped on any given day. For realsies, if you ever have the urge to stick your hand inside JVR’s pants to get a feel for how he’s going to play that day, use my eye test instead. It works just as well and comes with no sticky residue:
If, when entering the offensive zone with the puck, JVR uses his speed and strength to take his defender (and the puck) to the front of the net, resulting in scoring chances or his team gaining possession of the puck, then his balls are in-place, descended nicely into their sack.
If, however, when entering the offensive zone with the puck, JVR takes a poor-angle slapshot or circles behind the net, allowing a much smaller and probably less skilled defensive to ride him off the puck and into submission, then JVR’s manhood is wedged somewhere between his stomach and his throat, rendering him completely useless.
Yesterday, as you saw on Briere’s overtime winner (where, moments before, JVR not only took the puck to the net, but also jammed away at his own rebound), JVR was a man. And his sack was filled quite nicely.
Jagr playoff beard
The force is strong with this one. You have thoughts:
Hereby co-signed that majestic wolf will be the descriptor for Jagr’s follicle exploits this spring.
Reader (@sssflyers) sends along a picture of the Flyers rookie:
Claude Giroux’s go-ahead goal
My word, that was violent. How many players have the ability to routinely swing their stick so wildly on one-timers yet maintain such perfect precision on the resulting shot? Very few, if any. Giroux won a game in Anaheim earlier this year with that shot, and he found success with it again yesterday.
That was the power play equivalent of hate sex. I’m not even sure Claude enjoyed it… he just wanted to dominate the goaltender and shoot a load over his head.
Has anyone else noticed that, since he's now in ninth gear for the playoffs, Giroux has angry celebrations? In fact, he doesn’t even celebrate. He just scores to get himself more fired up. We haven’t seen this since Kenny Rogers fist-pumped and stomped his way off the mound during the 2006 World Series. Of course, the difference between the G and Rogers is that Giroux isn’t on steroids.*
*Unconfirmed accusation on Rogers… but I have my hunches.
Anyway, that’s Giroux. Look at his reaction after he scored. He didn’t hug his teammates in a joyous fashion, he told the crowd let’s fucking go:
I’m scared. And the rest of the league should be too.
Finally, enjoy Hartnell screwing with G and Pierre McGuire during a pre-game interview: