The only time I’ve ever been mad enough to make a phone call when watching a hockey game was when Bertuzzi smashed Steve Moore’s face to the ice and broke his neck. I was on the NHL NY HQ Office voicemail before the game even ended telling Bettman that he needed to run this clown out of the league. I used some colorful language, but never made any threats, and left my return phone number in case they wanted to get back to me (yeah, that’ll happen).
Rusty Klesla beat Bertuzzi half to death in the second period last night. It was incredibly satisfying.