Just a few things that caught my eye:

• Charles Atlas vs. the 98-pound weakling. Not only did the Blackhawks get sand kicked in their eyes but they got their undies wedged up so far it felt like butt floss. What a spanking.

• Marian Hossa scored 40 in the regular season. But in the playoffs, he only scores in Game 4s of each series. And then he scores twice... every time. Guess it takes him until the fourth date to really get comfy.

• The Wings did it all -- they scored shorthanded, in the last minute of play and within 12 seconds of the opposition. Talk about putting your foot on a team's throat while their head is already under water. And they did it without Pavel Datsyuk and Niklas Lidstrom.

• Kris Versteeg suffers from Jack Russell syndrome; there's no other way to explain his behaviour. Little dogs always think they're way bigger than they are.

• Cristobal Huet will be playing in the AHL next season. Mark my words. It's the only way to bury that contract. It's not that he's bad; it's just that he's not that good.

• Martin Havlat gets clocked, is unconscious before he hits the ice and then he's back on the ice in less than 48 hours? I thought there was a league minimum seven-day rest for stuff like that. Oh ya. I also thought there was consistent and even discipline. My bad.

• Could whoever picked up Patrick Kane by the scruff of his neck please put him back on the ice? He looks so silly flailing his feet around uselessly like that.

• Hear about the woman in the States -- might have been Chicago but I'm not sure -- who lost her gold tooth in a toilet at the ball park? She didn't even hesitate; she dove right in to get it. And promptly got her arm stuck in the plumbing. GAG. I did hear that the price of gold was on the way back up, though...

• Congrats to the Windsor Spitfires who scored on the first three shots they sniped in today's Memorial Cup finals. Final score? 4-1. And to think that it took them until their third game of the tourney to get a win and then had to back-door their way to the final. Great story for a city ravaged by the auto-industry downturn. And bittersweet for everyone who remembers Mickey Renaud. RIP, buddy.