Thursday, May 1, 2008


Philadelphia Flyers' Danny Briere, left, scores as teammates Vaclav Prospal, center, and Mike Knuble (22) look on in the third period of Game 4 of an NHL Eastern Conference semifinal hockey playoff series with the Montreal Canadiens, Wednesday, April 30, 2008, in Philadelphia. The Flyers won 4-2 and lead the series 3-1. <br />(AP Photo/Tom Mihalek)We've called you Danielle and Daniella. We've questioned your fortitude and your manhood, especially come playoff time. We've doubted you would ever perform at a high level when it counted.

This time around, we were wrong.

We definitely underestimated you, Daniel (the English pronunciation, not the sissy French one that makes you think of prominent chefs). With 14 postseason points (8 G, 5 on the power play) in 11 games, you have more than proven yourself, Danny. Actually, scratch that: you are now Dan the Man.

Your plus/minus in the regular season was -22, making the big free agent signing by the Philthy Lyers look like a misfire. Though you have definitely been boosted by the trade deadline addition of new BFF Vaclav "Vinnie" Prospal, you've been the catalyst for this resurgent squad. Your goal late in the 3rd period of Game 4 last night gave your Lyers a 2-0 lead, which they would eventually win 4-2 with a late PP goal, to help them take a commanding 3-1 series lead against the Canadiens.

Mr. Briere, I hope you weren't offended by the name-calling on this silly little blog. We're really sorry about that. Rest assured, for the remainder of the postseason, when you sit down with your morning poutine and read the latest Open Hockey blog post, you will not be referred to using a girl's name.

(No, I'm still not rooting for the Phucking Lyers, but I thought I at least owed Dan an apology.)

In semi-non-related news, the bachelor party I was supposed to attend in Montréal this weekend has been cancelled due to a "scheduling conflict" (there's a 63% chance this decision was "future wife related") and the festivities moved to Philadelphia. That's right: The City of Cheesesteaks, The City of Brothers Who Are In Love With Each Other, or as I like to call it, The City That's Frequently Caught Napping. So I will not be driving to Canada, putting on a Habs sweater and celebrating a Flyers clinching game by burning a few police cars, making "contact" with a few dancers, and punching anyone wearing orange. Instead, I will be in Philly with non-sports fans sharing a case of Yuengling from Liquorama in Camden, and maybe visiting one of the fine gentlemen's clubs right off the entrance road to the Ben Franklin Bridge before retreating to the Oregon Diner for breakfast at 3 A.M. What a crock of merde. Oh well, c'est la vie.

(Photo courtesy of AP/Tom Mihalek)

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