T’was the night before Christmas and something something something.

We have always been confused about the night before Christmas. Is that tonight? Or is it tomorrow? Because technically wouldn’t that be Christmas Eve?

Luckily none of this matters in a holiday zombie apocolypse. Then its just about survival and sticking it to the walking dead.


We are sitting at Hudsons the other night with a couple of the boys to enjoy a single glass of peppermint schnapps and watch the Oilers play the Sharks. Like any red blooded men, we set about making some pregame predictions and bets.

As always we took Eberle to score a mighty natural double hat trick – offering 3-1 odds to anyone with the lack of sense to bet against this feat.

Another of the fellas boldly declared "this is the night that Ryan Whitney finally scores. I can feel it in my bones and I’ll put a $20 spot on it at 4-1 odds."

This type of courage can be quite common during the holiday season and another one of the fellas had the hubris to accept the bet. "Whitney won’t score no goals for nuthin’ – I’ll take that bet all day long."


Fast forward to the last few minutes of a 2-0 game. Shot comes from the point and finds its way into the back of the net. Whitney can be seen audibly gasping "thank God" after the goal.

The victor begins a celebratory dance around the bar at Hudsons, giving the "stranger high five" to two or three confused patrons.

"Bartender!" he yells joyously. "$80 worth of shots and beers for the table over there. Send the bill to the sad looking guy on the end."

True to his word, the losing gambler ambles over to the bank machine and takes out his $80. The drinks arrive moments later and as we set up to knock them back, your ol’ pal Wanye happens to see that the final game summary has credited the goal to Dustin Penner and not Ryan Whitney as our table mates have been led to believe.

"Uh fellas" we began "Whitney didn’t score the goal. Penner has been given credit for the tip."

Shot glass raised to his lips in defeat, the eyes of the loser lit up. "No kidding" he yelled. While the rest of us were looking at the scoring summary and laughing at the last minute revesal of fortune, the loser proceeded to knock back 4 shots – rapid fire style.

"I’m not paying for any of this and if you will excuse me, I am taking my $80 dollars and catching a cab."

And with that he strode off into the night, leaving the other guy down $80 and facing an $80 bill.

Classic reversal of fortune.


Merry Christmas Nation. All the very best to you and yours.


WanyeMail (trademark pending) is a blizzard of gambling spam, wang medication spam and other internet nonsensery. On many occasions, emails from actual folks are lost in this mess.

A good friend of the Nation – OttawaOilFan – emailed us to give us the goods on his attendance at the Oilers game in the Nation’s Capital a ways back.

A solid citizen of the Nation – he was doing the work of the Gods representing us all in enemy territory – as has been the case for many a moon. For his Saintly efforts and to try and make up for our tardy correspondence we offer him the official Wanye FIST of Christmas 2010.

Money power and respect in 2011 OttawaOilFan.