MONTREAL, QC — The Habs need to find their missing mojo.
It’s time to get this mojo back for the bleu blanc rouge.
Where do we start?
Do we go back in time to when Cammalleri wasn’t hitting posts, when referees weren’t reversing goal calls after whistling the puck dead, when Gomez was a goal scorer?
No. We need to go further back.
Back to happier times when the Habs had mojo. The kind of mojo that not only embodied the team but enamoured an entire generation.
Look up to the rafters to see the banners of players past. Lafleur, Dryden, Robinson, Savard, Cournoyer. They had this mojo and the Stanley Cup banners attest to that.
Why? They had forgotten how to play. They had lost their passion, their mojo. He took them out drinking so they can mesh as a team.
Our CH wearing heroes need to have a male bonding kind of night, a night of pig’s knuckles and beer in Point aux Trembles without a lychee or apple martini in sight.
Lafleur would never have ordered any of those girlie drinks and he would never have put an umbrella in his scotch, not even when it rained.
One hundred years of history of the Habs originated in the taverns of Hochelaga Maisonneuve, the Point, Griffintown and Verdun. They need to hit Wellington, go to Dilallo’s, go to Mommesso’s. They need to find Toe Blake’s Tavern!
They should be made accountable after the games, walk into the local taverns and see what the fans see, feel what they feel. Connect with the fans.
Getting back to the roots of the origins of this storied franchise, is a good first step!
Can you imagine Randy Cunneyworth coming out to speak to the media and it disintegrates into a Michel Therrien press conference?
I don’t want to.
A man without his mojo, is a man without a vision.
A team without their mojo, is a team in dire straits.
This is a game of passion, a game of emotion, a game of hard work.
Be humbled gents.
Mojo resides there.