We really need a general manager in place pronto in Montreal. Not just because the draft is coming up fast and we have the number 3 pick to decide on, and not only because he has to hire a coach and figure out how to ship out Scott Gomez, but also because we need something to talk about here.
I think the GM should be a female. Some nice, sexy, low-cut clothes, a smile and a wink, a gentle stroking of the arm, and she’ll have Glen Sather so screwed up he’ll take back Gomez in a New York minute. And throw in some cash for good measure.
Doug Risebrough’s name has come up and we could talk about the time he ripped Marty McSorley’s sweater to shreds when Calgary played Edmonton. Or when he, Mario Tremblay, and Yvon Lambert were three of the finest plumbers on some of the finest Habs teams ever.
We really need a GM and coach in place so we can agree and argue and plan how we’re going to win the Cup with these guys on board.
Until then, have you ever been to Malibu?
Malibu is only a few minutes along the Pacific Coast Highway heading out from Santa Monica. The houses aren’t spectacular from the highway, but the back of them, along the beach, show their true beauty. They’re also are in the 20 million range if you’re thinking about living there.
Moonshadows, in the second picture, is the restaurant where Mel Gibson got plastered, then got in his car and was promptly stopped by a cop, charged with a DUI, and began a slurring rant about Jews and others.
Although the houses along the beach are owned and lived in by movie stars and high-priced lawyers and such, regular people like you and me can access the beach at several barely-marked paths which you have to look closely for. These billionaries certainly don’t want a lot of riff-raff taking over their beach and talking hockey, that’s for sure. But we can hang out whether they like it or not.
When you go, spread out a towel, gaze at the water, then turn around and notice the hired help at these 20 million dollar places polishing the silver on the decks and washing windows. Live and lounge like a rich movie star on the white sand with the surf crashing before you, then get back in your car and drive several miles to your Motel 6 and hope your TV works and the sheets are clean.
