No one seems to pay any attention to those U.S. Department of Homeland Security warnings anymore.
You know... the ones that are supposed to warn of the imminence of a terrorist attack, or another KISS farewell tour. I mean, when was the last time that you even saw one of those things on CNN or your nightly news? And any time that I do remember seeing one, it was always stuck on 'elevated'. You'd think that they'd bump it up to 'severe' every now and then just to make sure that you and I were paying attention.
So anyway, in the interest of clarity, Centre Hice decided to fork out the dough to lease the technology and put it to a
good better use by applying it to the performance of your Montreal Canadiens and the general atmosphere around this joint.
The first rating system relates to how how badly the Habs get out-played or embarrassed in a loss. We were going to rate wins, but since they say that any win is a good win we decided that it would be useless to dwell on the 'goodness' of a win. Just take the two points, and get the hell out of Dodge. Besides, the Homeland Security dudes wanted to charge us another licencing fee, and we had already spent the extra money on Fruit Roll-Ups.
You'll notice that the lowest severity would be for not actually losing the game in the first place: a win. We hope that the little green light gets a nice little workout this season. From there, it works it way up through various states of loser-ness up the the highest level. How bad would the Habs have to lose to warrant the highest level of suck? A shutout to the Leafs with Grabovski netting a hat trick might warrant pushing the panic button. Hopefully, we'll never have to find out.
The second rating system relates to how well we here at Centre Hice feel about being a Hab fan at any given moment. Ratings go from the absolute high of a Stanley Cup "Parade!!!" all the way down to the deep, dark recesses of depression; a state mind akin to having spoiled the magic of Christmas for your 5-year old by getting caught polishing off Santa's milk and cookies and stamping fake reindeer hooves on the roof: "Leaffan".
By the way, If we ever have to turn our mutual keys and light that little blue puppy, feel free to consider all hope officially lost. Gather the wife and kiddies, lock yourselves in the bunker, and wait quietly for the blinding flash.