Last night the Tampa Bay Lightning, my frustrating, pitiful, and thoroughly rotten hockey team, faced off against the New York Rangers in a game made much more interesting by the man in the suit behind New York’s team: John Tortorella.
Remember him? The head coach fired by the Lightning before being replaced by Mullet Man (a.k.a. Barry Melrose, who was also subsequently fired)? Ah, yes, rings a bell now. The man cut from the team and basically blamed for the Lightning’s never-ending poor performance?
How deliciously satisfying it must have been for Torts to watch his ex-team stumble about idiotically on the ice, ineptly and dumbly watching the puck whiz into the net 8 times for the Rangers. The Rangers stomped the Lightning mercilessly to a final score of 8-2, leaving them broken and bleeding to limp home with their collective tails tucked between their feeble legs.
I will give it to Torts, every time the camera panned across his face, he showed no emotion whatsoever. Me? Forget it! If I had been fired and blamed for the Lightning’s record-breaking incompetence, then mangled them later with my new team, I’d have been laughing, pointing, shouting, “How you like me now?” every time my new team scored, dancing, or as Gary suggested, mooning the old team with great delight. I would have enjoyed every drop of every second and made sure the entire arena knew just how much ecstacy it was bringing me to trounce a team that dismissed me as the cause of their suckiness.
Well, Lightning, you are on your second coach since Torts and you are still a wretched, pitiable hockey team. Who gets fired next?