2011.02.11: In which / you’ve lost that loving / feeling

Our round-the-clock Mike Fisher watch continues! He’s promised us pizza and a six-pack of beer (non-alcoholic, daps to JC) between all three thousand of us if we help him move this Saturday.



Mike Fisher you gave Ottawa some great moments, fringing on some blue collar hockey hall of fame, election on the first ballot shit. You were always there when we needed you, with that grit and determination and skating real hard and backchecking and penalty killing and powerplaying and body checking and marrying country music supastars…you were good for this team. Were you great?

I say no. You and Great dated for a short while, but broke up a long time ago. Great moved out, took the dog, pocketed your favorite Amy Grant CDs, and poured your bottle of 2001 Baby Duck all over the bed. You never managed to be friends with Great, sometimes flirted with it, and we were all really broken up about that. We all wanted you to be with Great. You were the second line centre that could…be a third liner on plenty of other teams. You were somewhat consistent, but brought so many other intangibles that made you valuable.

Mike, you were a pillar in the community, and no one can ever take that away from you. From Elgin Fraser to Roger’s House, you set the example on how proffesional athletes should give back. You bled for this city and team, and we are all thankful. You have been a class act from the moment you were drafted.

You scored 20 goals 4 times as a Senator, netting a career high 25 in 09-10. You averaged 0.52 points per game, which is good. You were paid 4.2 million a year, which is a ton for that PPG output. The biggest plus of your departure is that your salary is now off the cap. You are the sacrificial lamb of the Great Rebuild. Many fans are upset. They thought you were great. They thought you were ruggedly attractive, hunky and the hardest working center on the team. They might be right. They loved you and your chiseled abs of taking care of business.

With that, in the words of the great Smooth Jimmy, “So Long and Thanks for all the Fish”. You’re no dolphin, but you mixed a mean Gargle Blaster. You are a fighter of Vogons, owner of the Heart of Gold and friend to all those paranoid androids in Ottawa. I hope you get 42 points this year.

Needs more Hitchhiker’s guide references…


Right now, the Sens are mostly harmless, but maybe a little help from the infinite improbability drive we could land up at the restaurant and the end of the universe.

About Fish – when my buddy texted me last night saying that Fish had been traded, I almost thought it was a joke. A man who was once considered the potential future captain in Ottawa, and easily one of the top five most popular players in this town. Murray has give him up on a gamble, one that is stacked in our favour, but a gamble nonetheless. As long as Nashville doesn’t make a first round exit, this could end up being a really profitable trade especially considering we didn’t have to take back any of the salary.

I guess I’ll be cheering for Nashville in the postseason. Never thought I would see the day when that was the case.

There’s nothing fun about a rebuild, besides the fact that they are always spurned by a really awful season, on top of that you are guaranteed to be losing some of your favourite players. It’s a painful process, but it is also what needs to be done if we are going to avoid going on another 11 game (and counting) losing streak next January. With the $20M in available salary cap, there is a huge potential for who Murray could bring in during the summer. As much as I am loving Lehner these days, I think it would be a good idea to get in another goalie (maybe Vokoun or Bryzgalov) as well as a couple top 6 forwards, I’m thinking a center to replace Fisher and a winger for Spezza.

I guess the question now is, who’s next? My money is on Phillips. If we trade Karlsson or Alfie, I may actually cry.


I have a Mike Fisher story that for a while I’ve been getting plenty of mileage out of. Now, I fear there’s no more appetite for my little slice of banality from our departed Senator.

Summer, 2008. Fresh from my five years living in Vancouver I return to the Ottawa area and take a middling summer job at the private golf and country club frequented by my parents. My duties exactly? Sit in a pavilion at the first tee, monitor the automated scheduling system and drop the checkered flag on 4+ hours featuring octogenarians wandering around the woods and generally running out the clock.

One of the features of this golf course is a reciprocal relationship with the Marshes golf course in Kanata which features Fish as a member. One day I’m sitting in the shed, reading Deadspin and fending off the advances of randy blue hairs. Who should approach the first tee? Mike Fisher.

Now one of the duties of my role involves enforcing the club’s dress code. Normally this isn’t a problem since so many members already know the rules and would never run afoul for fear of being ostracized by their fellow members. The paramount stipulation of this code? Shirts must be tucked in. This is the banal part and I know you’re thinking “so freaking what?”

Well Mike approaches the first tee and the old ladies are immediately transported back to their beatlemania days, the fawning and cooing made my blood run cold. I know Mike is a good guy and he’s being gracious and signing autographs and taking pictures, but this is my turf. I am the law and the lash Mike.  I casually stroll out of the pavilion and push my way past the post menopausal throng.

“Hi Mike, Welcome, You need to tuck in your shirt. ” (I think I heard some boooos)

Record scratch… I’m not letting Mike tee off with his shirt untucked, no big deal right. Tuck it in and get on your merry way.
“I’m not wearing a belt, That’d look so stupid” he confesses.
“Well we’ve got a lovely selection of belts in our pro shop.” (Okay, admittedly this story might be really about me and my struggles with being an asshole.)

“But I’ve spent all this time signing autographs that my partners and I will miss our tee time.” 

Something tells me Mike is used to getting what he wants in public situations. I’m thinking, holy shit, how much money did you make last year?

“Well” I reply, “Looks like we’ve got a problem.” How about we do this? Now watch me as I wink Mike”. “You could tuck in your shirt and maybe like on the next hole, by some weird happenstance, it would come untucked? Either way, I’d never know…I have to stay here…wink.

“Ohhh, I get it, thanks…”
“No worries, Mike, enjoy your round”

About two minutes after Mike teed off one of the members came running out of the dining room with a styrofoam container of takeout. “Is Mike still here? I was going to get him to sign my leftovers.”


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