Not entirely sure why I'm once again dreaming about hockey, but this morning had the entire Clear the Crease brigade flung around a round table in a not-quite-dark-enough dive bar somewhere in San Jose. The cocktail waitress had approached us and in the course of soliciting our orders had expressed her deep enthusiasm over the Sharks' extending invitations to Owen Nolan, Jed Ortmeyer, and Darren Haydar: "I mean, physical, experienced, scoring touch. That's gonna be such a dope fourth line for us this--
Pierre Idiot Trudeau: I really don't think those guys are going to make the team.
Waitress: Well, but--
Pierre Idiot Trudeau: I really don't think they're going to make the team.
Waitress: They could really be a good fourth--
Pierre Idiot Trudeau: They're not going to make the team.
Waitress: ...
Pierre Idiot Trudeau: Seriously. There's no reason to tinker with the lower lines on that team. Those guys were just invited to camp. They're really not going to make the team.
Bogdan von Pylon: Uh, can we get our drinks now?
Waitress begins to leave.
Pierre Idiot Trudeau: I really don't think they're going to make the team.
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