By Justin Holl
Well well well, look how quickly that shit fucking changed didn’t it you platinum seat suit wearing fucks?
For the past 3 years all I’ve heard from you Wendel Clark loving scumbags is that I’m the worst defenceman you’ve ever been forced to watch play for your beloved Buds. But we’re 11 games into the season and, what a shock, turns out the new guy you signed for more money than me is a hell of a lot fucking worse.
Sure I made some giveaways. I struggled to clear the puck. I got a doctor’s note declaring that I was allergic to clearing the front of the net.
But at least I didn’t make the wrong play literally every time the puck touches my stick. I didn’t look off Auston Matthews for one-timers so I can lob softballs in the general direction of the net. I didn’t skate in the exact opposite direction of a guy heading straight for our net on a breakaway.
I know you can’t bring yourselves to say the words. Not yet. Not after so many years of declaring that, as soon as I was gone, this team would finally make a run for the Cup. But, deep down, you’re starting to miss me aren’t you?
You’re starting to get all warm and fuzzy for my safe, predictable style of play. Maybe you even found yourself watching a montage of all the shots I blocked on the penalty kill. Oh my god you did didn’t you? You piece of shit.
Well it’s too bad. I’m gone. And I’m never coming back. And neither are Kerfoot, Engvall and any of the other players you spent years giving shit to and now realize are better than any of these “big name” free agents GM Boston Pizza Jr. just signed.
So good luck with Klingberg. Maybe if you throw in a second rounder you can get someone to take that contract on. And I’ll see you little fucks in the first round where you know I’ll be scoring my first career hat trick on you in Game 7.
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