Game 6: Hockey Night in Hipster County
the crowd in the Mile End watches a legend in waiting
Who would have thunk it, the Canadiens exceeded all expectations, including my prediction when I started this blog. When I said Capitals in six, I was being nice thinking that the way they ended the last couple weeks of the season was what things were to come against the #1 team in the NHL.
Glad I was wrong, best game ever! One for the ages!
Game 6: Almost didn’t happened for me. I got back from Toronto happy and drunk as I can be. After a weekend of photojournalists and crazy scheduling my body couldn’t take anymore of the abuse and got sick.
It could be the virus that knocked Spacek out, or a bad case of the Ovechkins. I hope I don’t turn into a jerkface.
I literally passed out all day and wasn’t sure if I had the strength to see whether or not the Canadiens can either pull off the win or crap out. It wasn’t looking good for them as they haven’t won at the Bell Centre in the last 12 playoff games. What makes one think that this game could be different?
I walked around Outremont with a friend to get fresh air and medication and felt a vibe in the air. A kid skating down the block wearing a Canadiens jersey, college guys buying a six pack on their way to the apartment of the only one from the crew who has cable. Cafes talking pregame and what may happen. Was at a greasy spoon for breakfast when word got out PK Subban got the call.
PK Subban is the future of defensemen in this town and we needed him for game 6. He’s currently an all star from our farm team developing his skills. In light of what I said about our defense, I’m thinking: it’s about time!
The city was rumbling in anticipation of whether or not we win or lose, the Canadiens haven’t made this easy for Washington. Still pointless on the power play, still not scoring as much.
With all my strength, I knew that this could be the last game (or not). This game was important, virus or no virus, going to watch the game…
avoid alcohol (is what it said on the box of medication).
Uh oh. How am I going to do this?
I ended up at Cafe Romolo on Bernard in the heart of Hipster County (known as the Mile End). They had their liquor license revoked until the end of the week so I’m in the clear for now. It was packed, weird knowing that it was a sea of dark rimmed glasses, tight pants and asymmetrical haircuts filling up the space. More than any sports bar I’ve been in these last few games.
Washington was all over the Habs in the first 5 shots, Jaroslav Halak was key here, stopping all shots. Bell Centre fans were waving white towels in support, hoping to not use them to wipe tears if it didn’t go their way.
Cammalleri scores! The city roars. A couple minutes later PK passes one to (guess who again) and we’re up 2-0. The kid is alright, he’s definitely a keeper. If we set him in the right direction, he could be a top defenseman in the league.
As what we hoped for goalie Carey Price, sitting on the bench while right next to him, Joel Bouchard from RDS hand gestures and annoys us with his commentary. We can still like Price if he did us the favor and smacked Bouchard with his blocker!
While feeling weak, the Habs played their strongest period. Passes were fast, no chippines. Good competitive hockey, it was starting to feel like the Olympics again.
It became standing room only in hipster county, the bar was running out of space with those able to grow better mustaches than Sidney Crosby. Sorry Sid, you can’t grow a sleaze ‘stache.
Meanwhile, Ovechkin (grizzly looking) looked solemn as he normally has a bag of tricks at the Bell Centre. Halak had a few tricks of his own by making Washington’s offence disappear. Ta DA!
It was like watching a legend in waiting, Halak had been fighting for respect, for the reason he could be a #1 goaltender (whether if it’s Montreal or anywhere else). To see glove saves a la Patrick Roy, sheer concentration at la Ken Dryden. Save after save we knew he could stop without losing hope.
The puck going down to Semyon Varlamov, who wasn’t looking too good despite fewer shots. Maxim Lapierre was all over the net, dumping, pushing, charging. Then finally, his first ever playoff goal.
Then a few minutes later another penalty for diving. I don’t know what was going on with the officiating or the way we were trying to recover the puck but it was looking more like a swimming pool than game 6.
Another glove save, another run in with the net. Washington in total had fired 54 shots at Halak, he stopped 53, setting a new mark for Canadiens goaltenders. Eat this Dryden! Game 7 here we come!
My hockey buddy texted that he wanted to bear Halak’s children. Yes, next to impossible but after watching the way Halak was able to handle the puck and stop the likes of Ovechkin and Backstrom and this series alone, anything can happen. Break out the turkey baster!
The bar in hipster county cleared out in joy and hope for game 7 and the warm memories of game 6. I could hear the downtown core cheering on my way home. Passed by a car with kids flying Habs flags and honking into the quiet suburbs. My facebook clogged with laments of Jaroslav Halak. My favorite being “Montreal’s got a Halak-Hard-On” .
But wait, be shouldn’t have any premature expectations here. There is a game 7 to play on Wednesday.
Before we start thinking Stanley Cup or legends or anything that would make us look like Toronto Maple Leaf fans, we do have one more game to go. It was one game, if we can do this for game 7 then I think we can start talking serious here.
Washington might use this to fuel the fire, Ovechkin could go into super jerkface mode and score 5 goals or something. We got to keep the momentum going, that game 6 had been our best game ever. To hold the fort, to keep the lead, to see a legend (if he can pull off game 7) in the making.
But in the meantime, let’s do this one game, one period at a time. Now, I’m going to pass out now. Still sick as a dog but have a good reason to get well soon.
I don’t want us to get any premature celebrations here, not a fun thing to clean up here.
