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I can't resist doing this:
I am Martin (a typical crybaby French "Man" who continues to wear a smirk as if he actually earned it...) Brodeur, and I now will retire after losing to Les Rois du Anges Perdu because my team sucks and I have no Scott Stevens to clear those big scary men away from my crease.
I know we made it far this year, but these guys are losers and cannot get me another cup - a cup which would be le plus important and le most special-est(ist) cup I did not actually earn on my own. I miss the days of Luc Robitaille and the pizza commercials that we made together. Je me souviens de ces chaises en cuir. Pardon moi!
I often think we should make commercial about da chair instead of da pizza, but I have to go witt da guys who pays me. Shitty pizza, but good chair. How you say "bon vieux temps?" Old time? Les petites choses... Let's move on...
Dem days would have Scott Stevens clearing les homme away from da crease and make my life easy so I can look good for da camera and obtenir all kinds of bonnes statistiques. Pas de buts contre Martin avec Scott Stevens sur la glace! Jours très bons - très bons jeux. You pick! Ha ha ha!
Aujourd'hui? Non pas tant.
Fuck you Martin. Demain, vous prenez votre retraite. Au revoir. Buh bye.
Its four to nothing for L.A. and I have to walk my dog. He wants to go out real bad. Besides, it hockey. Its June. Fucking stupid and pointless.
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