Chad LaRose (Photo credit: Gregg Forwerck)

Editor’s note: Doug Johnson of Puck Buddys writes for RMNB. Tweet at his face.

The Post-Mortem: So, everyone happy?  At least those with Ward and Backstrom shirseys?  Luv U Caps, but we’re tired of writing the “Tale of Two Caps” (See: Hassett, Peter) - you know, the bedraggled guttersnipes everyone wrote off after the 1st period who then come back to show their true mettlel? Memo to Bruce Boudreau and team: We don’t need drama. We don’t want drama.  Please, enough of the plucky comebacks by the adorable yet overlooked (*cough Nicky cough Greenie*) boy heros. Dickens did it before, and better. (Although, Coach, you’d make a memorable Fezziwig). Memo to Ovi:  “In addition to Russian, we’re learning how to lip read. And then we’ll learn how to lip read Russian. быть осторожным!

The Caps had a couple of busy days off after the Ducks game. While Ovi was managing ’Bench-gate,’ Brooksie, Sasha, and Coach Woods visited the Kent Gardens Elementary for a hockey clinic in the school gym. They had Air Slapshot in tow – if ‘tow’ is the right word to describe dragging along an inflatable mascot (which looked like it had become untethered from a Pink Floyd show). The video and the pics from the day were adorable. However, reports from our McLean bureau (and the school nurse’s office) tell a different story – three school kids ended up on the wrong end of some O zone penalties. Neither the players or coach addressed ‘Stick-gate,’ but Sasha was heard muttering something in Russian (“Чувствительная кожа”), as he was hurried away from school grounds.

Floyd the Barber

The Puck Drop: I think it was William Faulkner who penned the immortal line: “The South is a foreign country you always return home to.” Or was that Yakov Smirnoff? Whatever. The Caps are back on the road for back-to-back games, starting first with a trip down to the land of boll weevils and cornpone to play the Hurricanes.

Eric Staal

It’s our second dance with the Canes this season, but the first in their barn. Skinner, Staal, Kaberle, and Ward figured to figure then, and are slated to rate this time around as well. Bieber Skinner was outstanding against the Bolts, (except for the fact that perma-puberty he’s dealing with), but there are other Canes we need to watch closely.

The Set Up: Last time around we caught some flak for suggesting this place called North Carolina was little more than myth. So we did a little research. Turns out, there is a North Carolina, and it’s just north of South Carolina. Think Branson, with a sour attitude and less culture (and less Yakov Smirnoff).

The natives speak something called Carolingian, which is like how English would sound if your mouth was stuffed with hominy and fatback (as it turns out is the case). They worship an odd Hoop-God, pretend to have “colleges” and “cities”, and make money by renting out flea-infested disease shacks (called “ocean-fronts”) to pale-skinned dopes from the North, while they sleep in trees. To this fetid mix we add the Hurricanes.

The Canes 5-4-3 start suggests both weakness and toughness (a neat rhetorical trick that we think would make Orwell spit up). Weakness by evidence of losing nearly ½ their outings; strength in knowing how to hang in tough at the end. To what do they owe this paradox?

What Makes Them Hot

Tomas Kaberle

1: Like We Said.  Staal, Ward, Skinner and Kaberle are all standouts this season. Between the four (uh, three, ‘cause Ward can’t exactly get points) they’ve got… well, hella points for the Canes so far. Generally speaking, any of these guys on any given night can be good. On a bad night – for us, say – they’re all impressive. Staal has dreams of his team contending on the big stage. We’d like to laugh derisively in his face (assuming we had a step-stool) but can’t, as these four on one team could be lethal. What they haven’t developed so far is true cohesion. But…

2: Like We Didn’t. Erg. You would think a bunch of bumpkins like the Canes would be polite enough to pay attention to our earlier picks. The rest, settling down like Junior Samples on Hee Haw. Not really so much. Chad LaRose (that is NOT a porn name– we checked), a 29-year-old smoker from southern Michigan (swoon) already has 11 points – most of those assists, which makes him a genuine threat. There are others… but frankly they’re not nearly as hot. So…Chad LaRose. (Next appearing with Maxime LeStick, we imagine.)

3: Upswing. Short and bitter. Carolina went into Chicago ready to be pecked apart by the Blackhawks, and – like Tippy Hedrin – they came out the victor. Then Tampa, which has long bedeviled the Canes, was disposed of. There’s nothing we like less than an opponent building a streak while we have to defend ours. Jerks.

What Makes Them Not

Jussi Jokinen

1: Jussi Jokinen.  Normally we’d be calling him things like the Finnish Flash, the Kalajoki Cracker or just “Here’s My Card, Sailor.”  Not now. The 28-year-old left winger with more talent than should be legal (did we mention he’s totally got it goin’ on?) will be out for the next three or four weeks with a leg injury. Looks like he twisted it bad in the Tampa game. Poor guy, but good for us.

2: Division and Conquer: Nine games under their belt and they hadn’t won a single one in their division until Tuesday’s game against the Bolts. Staal may aspire to greatness, and may in fact find it in the future. The Canes –for the foreseeable future – we declare out-classed in the Southeast. Have at it, h8rs.

Crash the Net: We’re going on record as not liking the whole “Stink the first part/comeback the second part/nail-biter in the third” thing, yes? We’re not always on the best ice in other cities. The Canes (and Bolts) particularly have deviled us over the years. We think it’s all the pig-barbeque fumes. Whatever: Caps, strap your pork tight (Carolingian for ‘grab your sacks’), and play hard and fast from the outset. There, I guess we’re qualified to do a guest segment with Paula Deen now, eh?

The OT: Oh, that quote wasn’t Faulkner. Or Eudora Welty. Or Bear Bryant or Bocephus or any other giant of Southern “culture.” We just cold made it up. Boom! See that, South? That’s how we play up here! Oh, and please feel free to use that quote liberally in the future.

As Seen On TV:  Tune in at 7:00pm on CSN for another episode of The Bickersons, starring Joe B. and Locker, and for viewers down on Tobacco Road, point your backyard satellite dish up towards the heavens and pray you get a signal.

[Editor's note: We are proud to welcome writers Craig Brownstein and Doug Johnson to the Russian Machine! You might already know Craig and Doug from their gay-focused hockey blog, Puck Buddys. You are hereby required to follow them on Twitter: @PuckBuddys. Puck Buddys is increasing its scope from Caps-centric coverage to the whole NHL, so you'll see C+D here a lot, especially for game previews. Please give them a very warm welcome and let us know if they break anything expensive.]

And now, a new season kicks off with an ominous sign of the Hockpocalypse - teh gays are now writing about the Caps for RMNB: a risky collaboration between the established Russian royalty (or oligarchy), and the gauche, nouveau riche upstarts.  The cheeky bastards of the hockey world will occasionally share insightful analysis, anatomy lessons, and keen fashion sense with a wider cross-section of the Caps fanbase. The questions on everyone’s lips?  1) Who’s going to embarrass the other first?  Answer: We’re demonstrating that right now. 2) How did RMNB end up with us? Answer: Dave Nichols of District Sports Page already grabbed all the talented free agents.

It’s been a tough summer, our first official offseason. Since we last left our rink-side heroes, the economy is still falling like Sasha’s many unexplained losses of balance; the earthquake did as much damage to the city as Tampa Bay (and wrecking the one pure thing in DC); and America’s most high profile hockey mom, Sarah Palin, is…well, still Sarah Palin. In other words, stasis. During the Dog Days, our hockey hunger was temporarily sated by Dev Camp, the rookies, training camp, the Alumni Game (Go Team Locker!), and finally, CapsCon.

We’ve been watching the pre-season (mostly) closely, scoping out the Baby Caps, GMGM’s seasoned vet additions and the many new names, faces and sweaters around the NHL (Hi, Stecks!).  And speaking of that former Caps fan fave, we’re glad he wound up with the Leafs; it’s home to our #1 fave hockey dad, Brian Burke. But enough about friends, let’s look at Saturday night’s foes, the Carolina Hurricanes.

First off: they’re from somewhere called “Carolina.” We’re told there are actually two Carolinas, but we’re not so sure. The Hurricanes are actually immigrants from Hartford, where they were once dressed as whales, occasionally beached. But that’s so 1970′s – get with the new economy – anything worth a crap now lives in the South, like Hank Williams, Jr., who is our choice to host next year’s NHL Awards show. And to be honest, he’d be a marked improvement over Jay Mohr. If we were writing Hank’s opening remarks for the evening, we’d have him liken President Obama to Gary Bettman.

But we have all season to high-stick the Commish, let’s talk hockey. After a gypsy season or two – we call this the “Carolina Homeless” era – the Canes settled comfortably in Raleigh, which we pretty much liken to the the fictitious sit-com town of Mayberry. Among North Carolina’s other significant contributions to culture are pig-pickin’, douchey Duke snots and creepy Senators. Still, despite our city slicker snickering, Raleigh hoisted the Cup, which is more than we can say at this point.

The Canes racked up only one win in the preseason, blanking the NKOTB, the Winnipeg Jets. We won’t read anything into those September contests, since the Caps too, played spotty, prompting immediate and panicked calls for the firing of both Coach Boudreau and GMGM.

Tomas Kaberle

Beginning nowhere in particular for the Canes is 4-time all-star Tomas Kaberle. Or more accurately, Tomáš Kaberle, a Czech-born former Bruin of with great skills.  We get a little dizzy typing Tomáš into the Google – not that there’s a lot of Czech-born ‘models’ named Tomáš or anything – but it’s clear Kaberle brings experience to their squad.  Sure, the 33 year-old D-man has a bit of grey in the beard, and perhaps he fizzled a bit in the last playoffs, but he’s big (215 lbs) and aggressive…and has something only two others on the Caps have: the magical and elusive NHL championship ring.  On the subject of precious rings, we’re staying away from the booth on opening night because the sight and sound of 20,000 Caps channeling Smeagol may be a bit too much for us.

Hewing closer to the more youthful demographic is Cam Ward, Conn Smyth winner in 2006, and still among the best goal-tenders in the NHL. A Saskatoon native, the 27-year-old Ward isn’t to be mocked, on the ice or off. (Serious cute on this guy). Although 2010 was a sort of crud year for him due to injuries, that’s nothing compared to what the Caps have seen previously. A lot. A whole lot. Our boys will need to pick his lock on Saturday night and in the five subsequent match ups with this squad.

Eric Staal

The Top Cane, Eric Staal, brings his family’s “I’m Eric-the-Vampire-from-True-Blood“  Nordic good looks back for another season. 26 and freakishly tall, the ‘Canes captain is ridiculously talented, and sibling to, at last count, 14 hockey-playing brothers.  Mmmm - that’s some good DNA! He boasts mad skills yet occasional bad judgment, which could be his undoing when facing our newly fortified D (Hi, Roman! Remember us from the autograph session at CapsCon?).

The Biebs

Without getting typically gay fanboy, Tiger Beat gushy, we can’t look at the Canes and not take a shot at the NHL’s very own Justin Beiber -  Jeff Skinner [Peter: This should boost your SEO. BTW don't forget to remove this note before posting!]. 19 years old… wait…just let that sink in: 19. We have socks older than Jeff Skinner. Apart from his yucks-inducing name for any Simpsons fan, the shortish (5’11″) Toronto-native is a natural, having made the rare transition from figure skating to hockey (a move that we pray Johnny Weir never considers).

In his first NHL season, he smoked it up for Carolina, and the Calder winner has franchise hopes riding on his slender and delicate shoulders, almost like a young Ovechkin many years back. Well…maybe not Ovi. Sasha, perhaps, as long as we’re speaking about delicate.  Either way, the Carolina tween is someone with talent but has a lot left to learn – most notably about fighting. He can find the twine but can he deliver and take a punch? Sure he danced with Kris Russell of the Blue Jackets during the preseason, but that was kid stuff.  Hell, even we could beat down Russell, and we fight like girls (correction: mean girls).  Maybe not on Saturday, but if he keeps dropping his dainty little mitts, at some point, the Canes’ Beebs may get that ominous page over an arena PA system: “Mr. Jeff Skinner, RED courtesy phone - Matt Hendricks is holding on Line 3.”

At the other end of the Canes age spectrum is Bryan Allen, a well-traveled, 31 year-old, 6’5″ 225lb monster, and quite possibly a nice addition to the Canes D. Weird to single him out? For us, not so much – he’s a handsome SOB.

Which leaves us back at the topic that brought us here. Men? No, hockey. Or, more explicitly, hockey men. Until the apparatchik at RMNB ask us politely to leave (or have us kidnapped and buried in shallow graves outside of Frederickgrad), we’ll continue scribbling occasional thoughts on the side of hockey that the tourists never see.