“Ohhhh, Trevor’s Gettin Pounded!!!”

Well, we here at the paper are always excited about athletic competitions. Especially those involving real athletes. Baseball, football, basketball—you know the drill. But we don’t just follow the big three. No, with the paper’s Sports, you get it all. Between badminton baseball, shopping cart shuffleboard, egg and spoon races, games of catch, masturbation contests, NASCAR, and nut ball, nothing will ever be too insignificant to merit our attention. And we could list more, so much more, but we figure you get the idea.

Hell, we even wrote some seriously in-depth profiles of the larger-than-life Rodeo and WWF superstars that we have all come to know and love (You can find those articles here and here, respectively).

But, today we’re focused on one thing, and one thing only: the real reason we love winter. The start of the NHL season and, just as importantly, the start of this:

Isn’t it beautiful?

More beauty to follow after the jump.


See, for us here at the paper, hockey needs more of the grit and determination displayed by those two nameless warriors. They might never have made it big time—in fact they’re most certainly flipping burgers for the late night shift at a Tim Hortons in suburban Saskatchewan—but they made it where it matters most: our hearts.

So here’s to those guys. The toothless hooligans wasting away in the northern tundra of our great continent, busing from shit-stained arena to shit-stained arena all over this great land of ours, just so that they too might one day have the chance to get their head beaten in by a gigantic eastern European. Take solace, comrades, we here at the paper salute you.

The blood, sweat, and tears you shed keeps the preeminent Hockey league in the universe stocked with a constant supply of fresh meat. With out you, this would never have been possible:

And neither would this, a personal favorite of mine:

And to think people thought Ron Artest crossed a line.

So welcome back Hockey. We missed you.


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