Subban does it his -- and Frank's -- way
(Jan. 11, 2016)
Oh joy, the press is near
And so I face their endless grilling
To them I'll say it clear
I'll state my case, their pages filling
I play a game that's bold
Because of that I'm paid a high pay
And more, much more than this
I do it my way.
Regrets I've had a few
The dirty words I shouldn't have mentioned
Papa, I say to you
When I come home I'll serve detention
The words that came out coarse
Were as I planned, simply by-play
And so, much more than this
I did it my way.
Yes, it was time the world it knew
I'm but a man with one job to do
To play defence, and keep goals out
Not effing score, you effing louts
Message sent and best of all
I did it my way.
I've played and I've excelled
But still this team it keeps on losing
Our coach is why we fail
Our talent he is misusing
To think I said all that
And may I add, not in a shy way
Dooby, oh dooby do!
I sang it that way!
What's a D-man, what has he got
When forwards' shots go all for naught
He says the things he truly feels
We need much more than smurfs with wheels
The record shows I'm good in clothes
Yes, I am PeeeeeeeeeKaaaaay
Yes, that is my way
(Jan. 11, 2016)
Oh joy, the press is near
And so I face their endless grilling
To them I'll say it clear
I'll state my case, their pages filling
I play a game that's bold
Because of that I'm paid a high pay
And more, much more than this
I do it my way.
Regrets I've had a few
The dirty words I shouldn't have mentioned
Papa, I say to you
When I come home I'll serve detention
The words that came out coarse
Were as I planned, simply by-play
And so, much more than this
I did it my way.
Yes, it was time the world it knew
I'm but a man with one job to do
To play defence, and keep goals out
Not effing score, you effing louts
Message sent and best of all
I did it my way.
I've played and I've excelled
But still this team it keeps on losing
Our coach is why we fail
Our talent he is misusing
To think I said all that
And may I add, not in a shy way
Dooby, oh dooby do!
I sang it that way!
What's a D-man, what has he got
When forwards' shots go all for naught
He says the things he truly feels
We need much more than smurfs with wheels
The record shows I'm good in clothes
Yes, I am PeeeeeeeeeKaaaaay
Yes, that is my way
Subban gassed not good news for opponents
(Oct. 8, 2014)
The Star just posted a preview of tonight’s game, which included this bit of news:
P.K. Subban, the Norris Trophy winner starting an eight-year, $72-million contract, says the Canadiens are the team to beat — after the defending champion Kings: “Everybody wants to beat us. We have the most Stanley Cups (24) in the league. People want to beat us every time they play us. We’re the No. 1 target. Other than the Stanley Cup champion, we’re the next ones in line. Everybody’s trying to catch us.”
Subban also made headlines for a different reason this week, admitting in an interview that he flatulates in front of the Habs net to annoy opposition players.
PK, what’s Carey think of your … stratagem?
BTW, from July 7, 2011
PG, what’s goin’ on, you lose my phone number?
I bust my gut giving you all sorts of suggestions to help the team and what response do I get? Zip. Squat. Zilch.
What irks me is, here you are making these minor league deals, to deflect attention from your inability to land a fourth-line gendarme, when I’ve been giving you good advice left, right and centre to make the Habs feared around the league
.
To recap, I suggested you:
1.) Develop an in-house ‘dirty tricks’ program that teaches every player in the system how to clutch, elbow, slash, and butt end in a highly effective but unobtrusive manner.
2.) Resort to flatulence: Change players’ diets so opponents will think twice about getting physical with Habs, knowing they could get gassed upon contact. Make the CH stand for something distinktive, I said, like CHili.
3.) Turn backup goalie into psycho goon who, while doing spot duty, takes out other team’s best players if opponents don’t play nice.
Let’s be frank, PG, do you really think you can land a player or two who will instill fear in the Habs’ most hated foes. I don’t. And I’m not alone (the voices in my head make sure of that).
Invest your money wisely: R & D. Don’t spend to the cap looking for a human resources solution to a problem that screams technological fix: implants. No, not those faux super-hero abs, biceps and forceps. Pain sensors in each and every player, inter-connected (no, no, not with a cable – wireless). So that when a Habs player gets crunched, all his teammates experience the same sensation. I feel your pain becomes a truism, not a hollow expression.
And when all the Habs feel the pain, they’re not going to stand idly by and do nothing, like they did … never mind, let’s just focus on the future. No, they’re going to react as one and seek retribution. All for one sorta stuff.
Their message to the league: Feel OUR pain.
What do ya think, PG?
(And don’t make me come over there!)
(Oct. 8, 2014)
The Star just posted a preview of tonight’s game, which included this bit of news:
P.K. Subban, the Norris Trophy winner starting an eight-year, $72-million contract, says the Canadiens are the team to beat — after the defending champion Kings: “Everybody wants to beat us. We have the most Stanley Cups (24) in the league. People want to beat us every time they play us. We’re the No. 1 target. Other than the Stanley Cup champion, we’re the next ones in line. Everybody’s trying to catch us.”
Subban also made headlines for a different reason this week, admitting in an interview that he flatulates in front of the Habs net to annoy opposition players.
PK, what’s Carey think of your … stratagem?
BTW, from July 7, 2011
PG, what’s goin’ on, you lose my phone number?
I bust my gut giving you all sorts of suggestions to help the team and what response do I get? Zip. Squat. Zilch.
What irks me is, here you are making these minor league deals, to deflect attention from your inability to land a fourth-line gendarme, when I’ve been giving you good advice left, right and centre to make the Habs feared around the league
.
To recap, I suggested you:
1.) Develop an in-house ‘dirty tricks’ program that teaches every player in the system how to clutch, elbow, slash, and butt end in a highly effective but unobtrusive manner.
2.) Resort to flatulence: Change players’ diets so opponents will think twice about getting physical with Habs, knowing they could get gassed upon contact. Make the CH stand for something distinktive, I said, like CHili.
3.) Turn backup goalie into psycho goon who, while doing spot duty, takes out other team’s best players if opponents don’t play nice.
Let’s be frank, PG, do you really think you can land a player or two who will instill fear in the Habs’ most hated foes. I don’t. And I’m not alone (the voices in my head make sure of that).
Invest your money wisely: R & D. Don’t spend to the cap looking for a human resources solution to a problem that screams technological fix: implants. No, not those faux super-hero abs, biceps and forceps. Pain sensors in each and every player, inter-connected (no, no, not with a cable – wireless). So that when a Habs player gets crunched, all his teammates experience the same sensation. I feel your pain becomes a truism, not a hollow expression.
And when all the Habs feel the pain, they’re not going to stand idly by and do nothing, like they did … never mind, let’s just focus on the future. No, they’re going to react as one and seek retribution. All for one sorta stuff.
Their message to the league: Feel OUR pain.
What do ya think, PG?
(And don’t make me come over there!)
What happened behind closed doors ...
(10:20 p.m., Aug. 2, 2014)
Here's how the $72 million deal between Subban and the Canadiens went down, as I've been told (trust me, my source has a photographic memory):
Meehan: PK, good news and bad news.
PK: What's that?
Meehan: The Canadiens have offered you $10 million a year for eight years.
PK: Wow! What's the bad news?
Meehan: The Canadiens have offered you $10 million a year for eight years.
PK: Unnh? $10 million a year for eight years is a good thing, right?
Meehan: Could be. What are you going to do to make them think they're getting good value for their money?
PK: Same as always. Play my best, give my all, do what it takes to win, whether it's scoring goals, setting up plays, or wiping out a player. And representing the team in the best way possible, on ice and off.
Meehan: Same as always, eh? You were getting paid $3.75 million before. Has inflation gone up that much, you should get $10 million a year now?
PK: Hey, I was undervalued before. Now I'll be compensated for those years I didn't get what I deserved, as well as get an increase to recognize how much I mean to the team.
Meehan: Fine, fine, no argument there. But what, exactly, will the Canadiens be getting now for so much more money that they didn't get before?
PK: Well, just a lot more, A LOT MORE, of what I've been giving them all along. But new and improved, as they say. Besides, the teams are raking in big money because of guys like me, why shouldn't we profit as well?
Wh-wh-why are you giving me such a hard time? $10 million IS a good thing, for me and YOU.
Meehan: You're absolutely right. But think about it. You're going to be the highest paid player in Canadiens history by far. The expectations are going to be greater than you can ever imagine. Or ever hope to meet. Talent and confidence will only get you so far. Wait till the fans get on your back when you make a few bad passes, shoot wide of the net on more than one power play, throw a bodycheck and miss your target. To have all that happen AND the team lose, well, let me just say, you'll need a thick skin.
PK: So what are you saying? What should I do?
Meehan: Leave it to me. I'll leak word that WE asked for $10 million, and then agreed to accept $9 million a year as a home team discount. The fans will love you. Any inflated expectations they have about your play will virtually disappear. As long as you play the way you always have.
PK: You think so? But what will Bergie think when we turn down the $10 million deal and agree to sign for nine, over eight years? He'll think we're idiots.
Meehan: Don't worry about him, I'm going right to the top. I'm phoning Geoff. He'll be flabbergasted that we – YOU – turned down $10 million. And then he'll be over the moon. And you'll be in his good books for the rest of your contract.
PK: And Therrien?
Meehan: Look, there's only so much I can do
(10:20 p.m., Aug. 2, 2014)
Here's how the $72 million deal between Subban and the Canadiens went down, as I've been told (trust me, my source has a photographic memory):
Meehan: PK, good news and bad news.
PK: What's that?
Meehan: The Canadiens have offered you $10 million a year for eight years.
PK: Wow! What's the bad news?
Meehan: The Canadiens have offered you $10 million a year for eight years.
PK: Unnh? $10 million a year for eight years is a good thing, right?
Meehan: Could be. What are you going to do to make them think they're getting good value for their money?
PK: Same as always. Play my best, give my all, do what it takes to win, whether it's scoring goals, setting up plays, or wiping out a player. And representing the team in the best way possible, on ice and off.
Meehan: Same as always, eh? You were getting paid $3.75 million before. Has inflation gone up that much, you should get $10 million a year now?
PK: Hey, I was undervalued before. Now I'll be compensated for those years I didn't get what I deserved, as well as get an increase to recognize how much I mean to the team.
Meehan: Fine, fine, no argument there. But what, exactly, will the Canadiens be getting now for so much more money that they didn't get before?
PK: Well, just a lot more, A LOT MORE, of what I've been giving them all along. But new and improved, as they say. Besides, the teams are raking in big money because of guys like me, why shouldn't we profit as well?
Wh-wh-why are you giving me such a hard time? $10 million IS a good thing, for me and YOU.
Meehan: You're absolutely right. But think about it. You're going to be the highest paid player in Canadiens history by far. The expectations are going to be greater than you can ever imagine. Or ever hope to meet. Talent and confidence will only get you so far. Wait till the fans get on your back when you make a few bad passes, shoot wide of the net on more than one power play, throw a bodycheck and miss your target. To have all that happen AND the team lose, well, let me just say, you'll need a thick skin.
PK: So what are you saying? What should I do?
Meehan: Leave it to me. I'll leak word that WE asked for $10 million, and then agreed to accept $9 million a year as a home team discount. The fans will love you. Any inflated expectations they have about your play will virtually disappear. As long as you play the way you always have.
PK: You think so? But what will Bergie think when we turn down the $10 million deal and agree to sign for nine, over eight years? He'll think we're idiots.
Meehan: Don't worry about him, I'm going right to the top. I'm phoning Geoff. He'll be flabbergasted that we – YOU – turned down $10 million. And then he'll be over the moon. And you'll be in his good books for the rest of your contract.
PK: And Therrien?
Meehan: Look, there's only so much I can do
Will sequel prove equal to first two in franchise?
(7:30 a.m., July 31, 2014)
Preview of third film in popular series starring Despicable MB. Unlike the first two, which were computer-animated 3D, this one's strictly 1D.
Despicable MB: Welcome, gentlemen. I'm glad you could make it on short notice. We've got less than 24 hours to come up with a solution to a very serious problem. Subba is trying to separate me from several of my Millions, those adorable little greenbacks.
Detestable Dudley: How dare he! Wait a minute, you give away Millions all the time to the hired help, what's the big deal?
Despicable MB: The big deal is, if he wants eight-and-a-half this year, what's it going to be next year?
Deplorable Mellanby: That's outrageous! Wait a minute, didja you say eight-AND-A-HALF Millions? He wants eight Millions and half of one more?
Despicable MB: They come in different sizes: mini, micro and minute. Half of one is not an issue. I offered him five-and-a-quarter Millions. FIVE. He wants eight. Next year he'll probably ask for ten. And after that, when he's a unrestricted free agent, he'll shoot for the moon.
Contemptible Timmins: So what? Just shrink it like you did four years ago.
Despicable MB: No can do. Don't you remember what happened the last time? The moon regained its size quite unexpectedly. Caused all sorts of hassles. And the paperwork! No, we've got to come up with a solution that makes Subba happy, and me happy, and doesn't involve a shrink ray.
Reprehensible Ramage: How about if I speak to him? Defenceman to defenceman. Over a thousand games played in the NHL. Four-time All-Star, two-time Cup winner. Voice of experience speaking to the exuberance of youth. Convince him there's more to life than what he's asking for. Like being part of a team that's this close -- holds a thumb and forefinger slightly apart. [No, not that close. About this far. Keep going. There, that's it!] -- to winning a championship. And will if he stays with the team. That kind of memory you don't always get just by having Millions around.
Despicable MB: You're right! They're cute little fellers but too many of them can really complicate your life! Hey, what if I offer Subba a one-year contract for four Millions – and another ten as a signing bonus! Let him get a taste of what it's like to have a bunch of the little buggers around, under your feet, tripping you up. Pure hell. He'll regret ever trying to play hardball with us.
And then the following year, to show him we're nice guys, we only offer him six Millions, and then bump it up one Million a year after that for six years. After seven years, he's got 65 Millions hanging around house -- but all well-trained to do his bidding. Just because we took things slowly, calmly, rationally.
Detestable Dudley: Great idea, Despy!
Deplorable Mellanby: You da man!
Contemptible Timmins: Brilliant!
Reprehensible Ramage: You're the reason why I joined this franchise, Des.
Callous Carrière: For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly
Despicable MB: Callous, please [holds finger to lips]. Well, gentlemen, that was time well spent. I'm glad we've got our answer with a little bit of brainstorming. Now comes the hard part.
Detestable Dudley: Trying to convince Subba we're right?
Despicable MB: No, telling 14 Millions they're going to be part of Subba's household now. Have you seen his daily workouts?
(7:30 a.m., July 31, 2014)
Preview of third film in popular series starring Despicable MB. Unlike the first two, which were computer-animated 3D, this one's strictly 1D.
Despicable MB: Welcome, gentlemen. I'm glad you could make it on short notice. We've got less than 24 hours to come up with a solution to a very serious problem. Subba is trying to separate me from several of my Millions, those adorable little greenbacks.
Detestable Dudley: How dare he! Wait a minute, you give away Millions all the time to the hired help, what's the big deal?
Despicable MB: The big deal is, if he wants eight-and-a-half this year, what's it going to be next year?
Deplorable Mellanby: That's outrageous! Wait a minute, didja you say eight-AND-A-HALF Millions? He wants eight Millions and half of one more?
Despicable MB: They come in different sizes: mini, micro and minute. Half of one is not an issue. I offered him five-and-a-quarter Millions. FIVE. He wants eight. Next year he'll probably ask for ten. And after that, when he's a unrestricted free agent, he'll shoot for the moon.
Contemptible Timmins: So what? Just shrink it like you did four years ago.
Despicable MB: No can do. Don't you remember what happened the last time? The moon regained its size quite unexpectedly. Caused all sorts of hassles. And the paperwork! No, we've got to come up with a solution that makes Subba happy, and me happy, and doesn't involve a shrink ray.
Reprehensible Ramage: How about if I speak to him? Defenceman to defenceman. Over a thousand games played in the NHL. Four-time All-Star, two-time Cup winner. Voice of experience speaking to the exuberance of youth. Convince him there's more to life than what he's asking for. Like being part of a team that's this close -- holds a thumb and forefinger slightly apart. [No, not that close. About this far. Keep going. There, that's it!] -- to winning a championship. And will if he stays with the team. That kind of memory you don't always get just by having Millions around.
Despicable MB: You're right! They're cute little fellers but too many of them can really complicate your life! Hey, what if I offer Subba a one-year contract for four Millions – and another ten as a signing bonus! Let him get a taste of what it's like to have a bunch of the little buggers around, under your feet, tripping you up. Pure hell. He'll regret ever trying to play hardball with us.
And then the following year, to show him we're nice guys, we only offer him six Millions, and then bump it up one Million a year after that for six years. After seven years, he's got 65 Millions hanging around house -- but all well-trained to do his bidding. Just because we took things slowly, calmly, rationally.
Detestable Dudley: Great idea, Despy!
Deplorable Mellanby: You da man!
Contemptible Timmins: Brilliant!
Reprehensible Ramage: You're the reason why I joined this franchise, Des.
Callous Carrière: For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly
Despicable MB: Callous, please [holds finger to lips]. Well, gentlemen, that was time well spent. I'm glad we've got our answer with a little bit of brainstorming. Now comes the hard part.
Detestable Dudley: Trying to convince Subba we're right?
Despicable MB: No, telling 14 Millions they're going to be part of Subba's household now. Have you seen his daily workouts?
Be calm, be cool -- be out of character
(8:40 a.m., July 30, 2014)
A considerable amount of emotional and intellectual capital has been invested by the fans of the Montreal Canadiens in the outcome of the contractual contretemps that currently exists between the team and PK Subban. Reaction to the ultimate resolution could range from bitter dejection to unbridled joy.
Either response is not good to the long-term emotional well-being of diehard Hab fans. The first extreme is likely to fatally poison the fealty many pledge to the franchise while it's probable the second will give way to anguished disappointment, when expectations of a Stanley Cup are not met, despite having one of the game's most dynamic players in the flannel's fold for an extended period.
We must steel ourselves for whatever fate delivers, possibly with an arbitrator serving as the midwife.
If we look at the various postulates that have been forward by the ill- and well-informed, vis-a-vis the salary Subban will receive, the average, or Meehan, is $8 million annually over six or more years.
More certain is the fact that that a good many of us will be wrong.
Now this is not a new experience for me so I have grown inured to the mental upheaval it can cause but for those who will experience this feeling for the first time, here's a little bit of advice on how to handle the various scenarios that present themselves with equanimity, even aplomb.
If Subban signs for:
One year – It's not the end of the world (but could be in one year if Putin doesn't rein in his ambitions. But I digress). Cast it in the best light possible, a penultimate deal, a foot bridge to a destination each side strongly desires, a prenuptial agreement in advance of an exchange of vows predicated on each side proving themselves fit for a long-term relationship. Left unspoken but obvious in its import is the role coach Michel Therrien has to play in sealing the deal but there is also an expectation that Subban will elevate his game, and show greater maturity in handling situations that have vexed him, and his fans, in the past.
Two years – Again, not cause for a great show of hand wringing, finger pointing, fist shaking. Just a longer staging ground for the magnificent show that is to follow, a chance to work out the wrinkles before cladding in iron an agreement beneficial to both parties.
Three years – not likely.
Four years – Eller territory. Subban travels in a higher realm. Still, should this happen, think of it as a show of solidarity by one teammate toward another, a placing of the arm around a comrade's shoulders. Both are being counted upon heavily to contribute to a Stanley Cup championship, and with this deal, both Subban and the Canadiens are telling the world they fully expect the Canadiens to win it all by 2018 – at the latest.
Five years – Be serious. If Jake Gardiner can get a five-year deal with the Leafs, Subban deserves one for at least six. But no matter. Think of it as a throwing down of the gauntlet, albeit to a lesser foe, with Montreal telling Toronto, 'Okay, let's just see how far our young stars will take us.'
It's a deliberate act to draw media attention away from a failed enterprise that attracts way more than it warrants, a bold move which, admittedly is doomed to failure, but it will at minimum increase the opportunity for more parallels to be drawn, and exceptions noted, between two Original Six teams. It will engender the kind of debates that once occupied fans over whose team's defenceman was better.
Usually in each of those cases there was a clear winner, at least among followers of the sport without emotional ties to either team, but the discussions were fun to follow. And could be again.
Six or more – For Subban's ardent supporters, this is nirvana. But you might want to tone it down a notch, to the Never-Returner stage, not in the sense the Canadiens will never make it back to winning the Cup, but a phase in which “all of the worst hindrances, such as hatred, greed, jealousy, and ignorance, completely drop away, but a hint of a self-sense (a "me") still remains — and with it, the slightest trace of restlessness and dissatisfaction sticks around as well. The experience itself is rarely accompanied by any emotion or excitement, just a clearer recognition of what has already been seen twice [Correction: 24 times] before. These people appear to be extremely content, peaceful, and without desire, but the subtlest preference for positive rather than negative experiences remains.” (From the Dummies.com website, my go-to resource).
Now there might be quibbling, or stronger, squabbling, over the amount to be paid and the impact it will have on the team's salary structure and consequent lineup manoeuvres, but we should not concern ourselves with the perceived challenges of the monied class.
Thoughts of that kind are better spent on the inequitable distribution of wealth in our society as a whole.
But that's a topic for another day.
For today, make it a nice one.
(8:40 a.m., July 30, 2014)
A considerable amount of emotional and intellectual capital has been invested by the fans of the Montreal Canadiens in the outcome of the contractual contretemps that currently exists between the team and PK Subban. Reaction to the ultimate resolution could range from bitter dejection to unbridled joy.
Either response is not good to the long-term emotional well-being of diehard Hab fans. The first extreme is likely to fatally poison the fealty many pledge to the franchise while it's probable the second will give way to anguished disappointment, when expectations of a Stanley Cup are not met, despite having one of the game's most dynamic players in the flannel's fold for an extended period.
We must steel ourselves for whatever fate delivers, possibly with an arbitrator serving as the midwife.
If we look at the various postulates that have been forward by the ill- and well-informed, vis-a-vis the salary Subban will receive, the average, or Meehan, is $8 million annually over six or more years.
More certain is the fact that that a good many of us will be wrong.
Now this is not a new experience for me so I have grown inured to the mental upheaval it can cause but for those who will experience this feeling for the first time, here's a little bit of advice on how to handle the various scenarios that present themselves with equanimity, even aplomb.
If Subban signs for:
One year – It's not the end of the world (but could be in one year if Putin doesn't rein in his ambitions. But I digress). Cast it in the best light possible, a penultimate deal, a foot bridge to a destination each side strongly desires, a prenuptial agreement in advance of an exchange of vows predicated on each side proving themselves fit for a long-term relationship. Left unspoken but obvious in its import is the role coach Michel Therrien has to play in sealing the deal but there is also an expectation that Subban will elevate his game, and show greater maturity in handling situations that have vexed him, and his fans, in the past.
Two years – Again, not cause for a great show of hand wringing, finger pointing, fist shaking. Just a longer staging ground for the magnificent show that is to follow, a chance to work out the wrinkles before cladding in iron an agreement beneficial to both parties.
Three years – not likely.
Four years – Eller territory. Subban travels in a higher realm. Still, should this happen, think of it as a show of solidarity by one teammate toward another, a placing of the arm around a comrade's shoulders. Both are being counted upon heavily to contribute to a Stanley Cup championship, and with this deal, both Subban and the Canadiens are telling the world they fully expect the Canadiens to win it all by 2018 – at the latest.
Five years – Be serious. If Jake Gardiner can get a five-year deal with the Leafs, Subban deserves one for at least six. But no matter. Think of it as a throwing down of the gauntlet, albeit to a lesser foe, with Montreal telling Toronto, 'Okay, let's just see how far our young stars will take us.'
It's a deliberate act to draw media attention away from a failed enterprise that attracts way more than it warrants, a bold move which, admittedly is doomed to failure, but it will at minimum increase the opportunity for more parallels to be drawn, and exceptions noted, between two Original Six teams. It will engender the kind of debates that once occupied fans over whose team's defenceman was better.
Usually in each of those cases there was a clear winner, at least among followers of the sport without emotional ties to either team, but the discussions were fun to follow. And could be again.
Six or more – For Subban's ardent supporters, this is nirvana. But you might want to tone it down a notch, to the Never-Returner stage, not in the sense the Canadiens will never make it back to winning the Cup, but a phase in which “all of the worst hindrances, such as hatred, greed, jealousy, and ignorance, completely drop away, but a hint of a self-sense (a "me") still remains — and with it, the slightest trace of restlessness and dissatisfaction sticks around as well. The experience itself is rarely accompanied by any emotion or excitement, just a clearer recognition of what has already been seen twice [Correction: 24 times] before. These people appear to be extremely content, peaceful, and without desire, but the subtlest preference for positive rather than negative experiences remains.” (From the Dummies.com website, my go-to resource).
Now there might be quibbling, or stronger, squabbling, over the amount to be paid and the impact it will have on the team's salary structure and consequent lineup manoeuvres, but we should not concern ourselves with the perceived challenges of the monied class.
Thoughts of that kind are better spent on the inequitable distribution of wealth in our society as a whole.
But that's a topic for another day.
For today, make it a nice one.
The Deal
(A one-act play)
(July 26, 2014)
[A well-dressed general manager and a nattily attired player enter the room and take their seats beside each other. Opposite them behind a dark walnut desk sits a man in a dark grey suit, wearing black-framed glasses.]
Man in the dark grey suit: Gentlemen.
[He motions with one hand to present what they had been asked to bring.]
[Both men reach inside their jackets and pull out an 8-by-10 piece of paper, heavy bond, and lay it on the uncluttered desk top, blank side up, and slide it over.]
[The man in the dark grey suit turns over the general manager's paper but in a way that doesn't reveal the contents to the other person in the room, and raises his eyebrows theatrically as he reads, to himself, the print large and small.]
[The general manager's left eye briefly twitches.]
[The man in the dark grey suits turns the paper over and places it down.
He goes through the same routine with the other paper; it elicits an exhalation of air through pursed lips.]
[The player swallows.]
[With a hand resting on each document, the finger tips alone pressing down, spider-like, the man wearing the black framed glasses moves the papers so that his hands cross, and then eases the papers back across the desk.]
[The general manager turns his paper over. His eyes widen in alarm. Mortified, he places it back on the table, face down, and slides it back to the man in the dark grey suit. With the black-framed glasses.
[The player turns over the paper he has been given. His mouth drops opens in shock, then quickly closes. Stunned, he sets the paper back on the table, face down, and pushes it back across the table with two hands to the man wearing the black-framed glasses. In the dark grey suit.]
[The general manager stares straight ahead, the player does the same. They wait.]
[The man in the grey suit, dark, turns over the two sheets and runs his eyes over both. He turns them over again, sets them down firmly on the desk top and then reaches into a drawer and pulls out a metal ruler. He uses its sharp edge to rip the two documents into 16 smaller pieces of identical dimensions. He shuffles them around, and chooses eight at random to make a whole document. He reaches inside the drawer once again and pulls out a roll of scotch tape, which he uses to join the pieces of paper.
He turns over the sheet and reads without making a sound. The corners of his lips turn upward.
He slides the paper across the table to a spot between the general manager and the player.]
Man in the suit, dark grey : Gentlemen?
[The two men lean in to read together what the man in grey has wrought. The GM's eyes and player's teeth light up.
Player and manager give a slight nod and sign their names at the bottom of the contract. They stand, shake hands, and leave, genially escorted out the door by the man in the dark grey suit's parting utterance: Gentlemen.]
[The man in the glasses with black frame watches them leave and then pulls together the remaining loose pieces of paper. With a shrug, he makes them whole, again using the scotch tape.
He turns it over, his eyes quickly going down the page.
He looks up.]
Gentlemen!
[The curtain closes]
(A one-act play)
(July 26, 2014)
[A well-dressed general manager and a nattily attired player enter the room and take their seats beside each other. Opposite them behind a dark walnut desk sits a man in a dark grey suit, wearing black-framed glasses.]
Man in the dark grey suit: Gentlemen.
[He motions with one hand to present what they had been asked to bring.]
[Both men reach inside their jackets and pull out an 8-by-10 piece of paper, heavy bond, and lay it on the uncluttered desk top, blank side up, and slide it over.]
[The man in the dark grey suit turns over the general manager's paper but in a way that doesn't reveal the contents to the other person in the room, and raises his eyebrows theatrically as he reads, to himself, the print large and small.]
[The general manager's left eye briefly twitches.]
[The man in the dark grey suits turns the paper over and places it down.
He goes through the same routine with the other paper; it elicits an exhalation of air through pursed lips.]
[The player swallows.]
[With a hand resting on each document, the finger tips alone pressing down, spider-like, the man wearing the black framed glasses moves the papers so that his hands cross, and then eases the papers back across the desk.]
[The general manager turns his paper over. His eyes widen in alarm. Mortified, he places it back on the table, face down, and slides it back to the man in the dark grey suit. With the black-framed glasses.
[The player turns over the paper he has been given. His mouth drops opens in shock, then quickly closes. Stunned, he sets the paper back on the table, face down, and pushes it back across the table with two hands to the man wearing the black-framed glasses. In the dark grey suit.]
[The general manager stares straight ahead, the player does the same. They wait.]
[The man in the grey suit, dark, turns over the two sheets and runs his eyes over both. He turns them over again, sets them down firmly on the desk top and then reaches into a drawer and pulls out a metal ruler. He uses its sharp edge to rip the two documents into 16 smaller pieces of identical dimensions. He shuffles them around, and chooses eight at random to make a whole document. He reaches inside the drawer once again and pulls out a roll of scotch tape, which he uses to join the pieces of paper.
He turns over the sheet and reads without making a sound. The corners of his lips turn upward.
He slides the paper across the table to a spot between the general manager and the player.]
Man in the suit, dark grey : Gentlemen?
[The two men lean in to read together what the man in grey has wrought. The GM's eyes and player's teeth light up.
Player and manager give a slight nod and sign their names at the bottom of the contract. They stand, shake hands, and leave, genially escorted out the door by the man in the dark grey suit's parting utterance: Gentlemen.]
[The man in the glasses with black frame watches them leave and then pulls together the remaining loose pieces of paper. With a shrug, he makes them whole, again using the scotch tape.
He turns it over, his eyes quickly going down the page.
He looks up.]
Gentlemen!
[The curtain closes]
PK, Habs will, yes, will sign a deal
(July 6, 2014)
Arbitration is nothing to fear
A deal will be reached multi-year
Subban will get rich
But some fans will bitch
Paying double the price of their beer
(July 6, 2014)
Arbitration is nothing to fear
A deal will be reached multi-year
Subban will get rich
But some fans will bitch
Paying double the price of their beer