Short, Open Letters to Some Bad and Some Good (because they do stil exist) Maple Leafs
Dear Jason Blake,
WHAT THE FUCK MAN. NO SERIOUSLY. WHAT THE HELL?! CAN YOU START SHOWING UP TO SOME FUCKING GAMES? CAN YOU OH, WE DON'T KNOW, PLAY WORTH THE FOUR FUCKING MILLION WE ARE PAYING YOU?! WHY THE HELL DID WE AGREE TO PAY YOU THAT MUCH?! YOU SCORED FORTY GOALS....ONCE? OH FUCK.
DEMOTE DEMOTE DEMOTE DEMOTE DEMOTE.
Dear Vesa Toskala,
YOU TOO. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?! YOU PLAY WELL AGAINST THE CAPITALS (YOU ALMOST REDEEM YOURSELF) BUT THEN YOU LET IN LIKE THREE GOALS ON SEVEN SHOTS.
WHAT.
THE.
FUCK.
YOUR FIVE HOLE IS STARTING TO BECOME BIGGER THAN LINDSAY LOHAN'S. STOP FOCUSING ON FASHION AND START SAVING SOME GOALS!
IF YOU DON'T YOU SHALL HAVE A SPECTACULAR CAREER IN A DODGEBALL LEAGUE BECAUSE YOU WILL DODGE EVERY FUCKING BALL.
CAN TOY DODGE A WRENCH?! WE HOPE SO.
Dear Ian White,
You, good sir, are god-like. You are a defenceman. You are a goalie (we're pretty sure your save percentage is like %1.0, which is more than we can say for Toskala) and you can be a foreward when you want to be. You choose whatever the hell you want to be in any given game because it is, of course, at your discretion; no-one can/will ever defy you and the power of your moustache. STOP SHAVING IT CAUSE WHEN YOU SHAVE IT YOU AND THE TEAM LOSE POWER. WHEN IT'S IN FULL BLOOM Y'ALL PLAY...LIKE HOCKEY PLAYERS. Although there is no 'C' in Ian White, but there is an 'A', which we think you highly deserve. (If you happen to have a middle name containing a C which we don't know about, please contact us)
Dear Jonas Gustavsson
You have an irregular heart beat and needed surgery for it early in the season, and, trust us when we say that it's not the best feeling to have to read "IR - Jonas Gustavsson (heart)" in newspapers or on TV. Yet you continue to amaze us. You're playing, for the most part, better than Toskala is with a groin injury (let's not talk about how he 'tweaks' it whenever he lets in nine goals on ten shots) and your accent brings smiles to our faces, especially when you say "I'm focusing, liiiike, real hard." Keep up the monster mashing.
Dear Carl Gunnarsson and Luke Schenn,
We kind of like you two together. Not gonna lie, the pairing is pretty ballin.
Dear Jason Blake,
WHAT THE FUCK MAN. NO SERIOUSLY. WHAT THE HELL?! CAN YOU START SHOWING UP TO SOME FUCKING GAMES? CAN YOU OH, WE DON'T KNOW, PLAY WORTH THE FOUR FUCKING MILLION WE ARE PAYING YOU?! WHY THE HELL DID WE AGREE TO PAY YOU THAT MUCH?! YOU SCORED FORTY GOALS....ONCE? OH FUCK.
DEMOTE DEMOTE DEMOTE DEMOTE DEMOTE.
Dear Vesa Toskala,
YOU TOO. WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK?! YOU PLAY WELL AGAINST THE CAPITALS (YOU ALMOST REDEEM YOURSELF) BUT THEN YOU LET IN LIKE THREE GOALS ON SEVEN SHOTS.
WHAT.
THE.
FUCK.
YOUR FIVE HOLE IS STARTING TO BECOME BIGGER THAN LINDSAY LOHAN'S. STOP FOCUSING ON FASHION AND START SAVING SOME GOALS!
IF YOU DON'T YOU SHALL HAVE A SPECTACULAR CAREER IN A DODGEBALL LEAGUE BECAUSE YOU WILL DODGE EVERY FUCKING BALL.
CAN TOY DODGE A WRENCH?! WE HOPE SO.
Dear Ian White,
You, good sir, are god-like. You are a defenceman. You are a goalie (we're pretty sure your save percentage is like %1.0, which is more than we can say for Toskala) and you can be a foreward when you want to be. You choose whatever the hell you want to be in any given game because it is, of course, at your discretion; no-one can/will ever defy you and the power of your moustache. STOP SHAVING IT CAUSE WHEN YOU SHAVE IT YOU AND THE TEAM LOSE POWER. WHEN IT'S IN FULL BLOOM Y'ALL PLAY...LIKE HOCKEY PLAYERS. Although there is no 'C' in Ian White, but there is an 'A', which we think you highly deserve. (If you happen to have a middle name containing a C which we don't know about, please contact us)
Dear Jonas Gustavsson
You have an irregular heart beat and needed surgery for it early in the season, and, trust us when we say that it's not the best feeling to have to read "IR - Jonas Gustavsson (heart)" in newspapers or on TV. Yet you continue to amaze us. You're playing, for the most part, better than Toskala is with a groin injury (let's not talk about how he 'tweaks' it whenever he lets in nine goals on ten shots) and your accent brings smiles to our faces, especially when you say "I'm focusing, liiiike, real hard." Keep up the monster mashing.
Dear Carl Gunnarsson and Luke Schenn,
We kind of like you two together. Not gonna lie, the pairing is pretty ballin.
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