Two posts in two days? This place is like Santa’s Workshop! Last night was the annual NHL Awards, or as we like to call it: the NHL A(wk)wards.
Normally an unfunny, bumblingly-hosted, C-list celebfest, last night’s show was most of those things again. But better, no? I confess to liberal use of the mute button, but overall there was improvement. Host George Strombopopolopolous, a stranger to us but appropriately a Canadian Treasure (credit: @jfrancesw), was great. He embraced the uneven flow, cracked wee jokes at everyone’s expense, kept a straight face during a break-dancing battle and deferred without envy to PK Subban as often as possible.
Bravo, new friend. May we see you again unless PK takes over full-time.
Since no actual hockey occurs, the Awards allow us to do what we do best: judge people’s outfits. Everyone’s healed-ish, spit-shined and suited up. The whole enterprise is sharpened by the vague, elusive promise that all these guys were shirtless at a swim-up pool bar just hours before this live televised event. We can judge swim trunks too, you know. And tans.
The order of the night was Crosby Won Everything and looked great. Or better than great. I am exercising considerable restraint here. This despite a small hair emergency on the red carpet, where the renegade curl of his bangs tried to claw free around his forehead. We’d tell him not to cut it so short, but honestly:
Sid brought his sister Taylor as a date. Cute cute cute. We credit Taylor with fixing his hair before he hit the stage. She looked lovely – and I imagine big bro giving rookies the stink eye for noticing.
Toews swapped his Nantucket pink shorts for a suit, then (as any good boyfriend should be) was upstaged on the red carpet by his girlfriend. @Linzerellak could not type “Valentino shoes!!!” quickly enough. We have a lot style envy going on here.
Who else? Giroux went heavy on the gel, didn’t wear his fake tooth and still looked like high treason to a Penguins fan. I only caught one shot of his girlfriend, whose hair was so glorious it sent me running for a brush myself.
Normally I would not endorse a shiny suit. I can’t even type it without thinking of Ben Stiller in Dodgeball. Bergeron though, always the exception to my rules about iridescence and Bruins. His speeches were the prize: he only sounds French when he thanks his “brudder” and couldn’t be more endearing. His wife wore a formal ponytail: the goal of my life. It would take a team of sculptors to make that work on my head.
Oh snap. I just realized Mrs. Bergy and Toews’ girlfriend are wearing the same shoes. The very ones our Lindsay was loving. Is this a fashion emergency like Brenda and Kelly wearing the same dress to prom, or are these just the de rigueur stilettos this (off-)season?
Tears welled when Rich Peverley spoke about his recovery and Dominic Moore won the Masterson. Both moments of real heart that remind you hockey people are awesome people.
Chuck flailed when Tuukka won the Vezina. He said, “I’ve never been so nervous in my life.” – but that’s a lie, because he’s Tuukka Rask. His speech was great.
And Tuukka was probably thinking, “At least I didn’t wear Varly’s suit.” I cringed when Varly appeared on camera – yikes. Pinache, yes, but his outfit belonged backstage with the costumed Marilyn and Elvis impersonators. Even Kathryn and Barry are trying not to look.
Nathan MacKinnon stole Intern Jeff Skinner’s title of youngest ever to win the Calder as Rookie of the Year. As consolation, Jeff cried into the new Ed Sheeran CD and said at least he doesn’t style his hair by wearing a hat till it dries. Really Nate, cut off that bit at the back if you don’t know what to do with it. Is Taylor Crosby available to help other Maritimers?
PK Subban stole the show, of course. Not just his melon-colored suit or late-game costume change into pale-pink-and-plaid. His backstage correspondence was really an audition to host next year. Crosby holding the Lindsay Award and edging fearfully toward PK to avoid touching a showgirl… highlight reel stuff.
The most desired date was there of course, the Stanley Cup teasing everyone. Kopitar and Brown looked so happy hauling it around that I threw a shoe at the TV. Kopi cleans up nicely, yeah?
The overall celeb roster was meh – I’ve seen worse. The Kings fan contingent was in full force, so their win can be credited with doing something for us. No David and Haprer Beckham though – or Wil Wheaton. We’ll take Colin Hanks, and that Retta woman whose show I’ve never seen was sass. Hire her, Kings. If we were D-listers, you’d have to bag and drag us off that stage. We can break-dance! We can get hammered like Cuba Gooding, Jr. and demonstrate fifteen minutes of increasingly erratic behavior. Possibly with more break-dancing! If we made a video podcast I think we qualify as presenters, and we promise to pronounce names correctly.
How hard can it be to open a puck and say, “Crosby?”
I wish more non-nominated players attended the show, just to be seen (on Tumblr partying in Vegas). Now it’s back to hoping for boat selfies and golf tournaments. Oh, and Smashball is coming soon. If I missed anything good from last night, send it my way!