An oldie, but a goodie...
Now, I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a
hockey game by taking a hit for his team. He won it by making the other poor
dumb bastard take a hit for his team. Men, all this stuff you’ve heard about
the Caps not wanting to fight, wanting to stay out of the contest, is a lot of
horse dung. Caps traditionally love to fight. All real Caps love the sting of
battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the
fastest runner, the big league ball player, the toughest boxer. Caps fans love
a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Caps play to win all the time. I
wouldn’t give a hoot in hell for a man who lost...and laughed. That’s why this
spring Caps have never lost and will never lose a playoff series. Because the very thought of losing is hateful
to Capitals.
Now... a hockey club is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps,
checks as a team. This individuality stuff is a bunch of crap. The bilious
bastards who wrote that stuff about individuality for NHL Network don’t know
anything more about real hockey games than they do about fornicating.
We have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit and
the best men in the world. You know, by God I actually pity those poor bastards
we’re going up against. By God, I do. We’re not just going to check the
bastards, we’re going to cut out their living guts and use them to tape the
blades of our sticks. We’re going to hit those lousy Panther bastards by the
bushel.
Now, some of you boys, I know, are wondering whether or not
you'll chicken out under fire. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you
will all do your duty. The Panthers are the enemy. Wade into them. Spill
their blood. Check them into the boards. When you put your hand into a bunch of
goo that a moment before was your best friend's face...you'll know what to do.
Now there’s another thing I want you to remember. I don’t
want to get any messages saying that we are holding our position. We’re not
holding anything. Let Florida do that. We are advancing constantly, and we’re
not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We're going to hold
onto him by the nose, and we're going to kick him in the ass. We're going to
kick the hell out of him all the time, and we're gonna go through him like crap
through a goose.
There’s one thing that you men will be able to say when you
get back home. And you may thank God for it. Thirty years from now when you’re
sitting around your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks you,
"what did you do in the great National Hockey League," you won’t have
to say, "Well, I shoveled shit in DC."
Alright now, you sons-of-bitches, you know how I feel.
Oh...and I will be proud to lead you wonderful guys into battle – anytime,
anywhere.
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