Surly called me up from wherever the fuck he is with his fiance to tell me he has a transcript of a call between Dean Lombardi and Don Meehan. So I asked him…
Me: What, from the summer? What the fuck am I supposed to do with that now?
Surly: No, dumb shit. From a couple of nights ago. I must have forgotten to take the tap off Lombardi’s phone and when I checked out the recorder and transcriber machine before I left, I found gold!
Me: You tapped his phone?
Me: Did I know that?
Surly: Do you want this fucking thing or not?
Me: Send it over.
So, here it is boys and girls.
Lombardi: Hey jerkoff…
Meehan: Hey jackass! Didn’t expect to hear from you. Is it time for another go-around? I didn’t have you on my radar so soon.
Lombardi: Yeah, well, this isn’t about anyone coming up. It’s about Drew.
Meeham: Drew? My 8 year, $56 million dollar man? Hey, did my fist up your ass do any permanent damage? Come on, tell the truth.
Lombardi: I’m pissed off, Don. I told you this kid wasn’t ready for that kind of contract.
Meehan: Ahh. Poor wittle Wean Wombardi. Having buyer’s remorse. You know, I was just telling Burkie the other day, there are three people in this world that pay retail – Doctors, Japanese and you.
Lombardi: What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
Meehan: It means you paid for potential, dumbshit. Just like you didn’t want to do. You paid a 21 year old kid who won’t be on his game until he’s about 26, $7 million dollars per season between now and then. But you know what? It’s even better than that…
Lombardi: Fuck off…
Meehan: No, no, hear me out. You’ll suffer through it this season, maybe even next but then you’ll trade him and get some shit in return, shit with potential but which will end up being shit regardless and then, right before your eyes, you will see Doughty blossom into a superstar, the player he never was for you. Then again, you’ll be long gone by then but the fans, oh the fans, they never forget shit like that.
Lombardi: You’re fucking evil, you know that?
Meehan: Evil? You should consider yourself lucky. I would have never let my boy Richards sign that contract with Philly if I knew he was going to play for a schlemiel like you. You would have gotten him at an $8 million dollar cap hit and you would have paid it.
Lombardi: Yeah, well, you didn’t. And this is not over between you and I. I’ll fuck you yet.
Lombardi: What is so funny?
Meehan: [laughing harder]
Lombardi: Stop being an asshole. Why are you laughing?
Meehan: I just got an email from my boy Zach, saying you are talking with Lamoriello…
Lombardi: You represent Parise?
Meehan: Jesus, you are stupid. I represent everyone. You get that? Every freaking one. I own you and the other GMs. You think those players play for you. Well, you and the other 29 play for me. Except you are my fourth line idiot that I sit two-thirds of the season. Who is that useless moron on your team?
Meehan: No, the other one.
Meehan: No, no, the other one.
Meehan: Hey, watch it asshole. That is my client and no, the other one.
Lombardi: I don’t have all day.
Meehan: Moreau. That’s his name. You’re my Ethan Moreau. Do you know what I will do to you if you trade for Parise? It will make the Doughty deal look like a trip to the 99 cent store.
Lombardi: Well, you don’t have my All-Star, Quick.
Lombardi: What does that mean?
Meehan: It means my fist is getting warmed up. What are you going to do when he switches agents?
Lombardi: Quick is a good kid. He won’t screw the team.
Meehan: He is your team, dummy. Without him, you’d be back to scouting, only this time for the Coyotes or something. You think I got Bryzgalov a sweet deal? I am going to make Jonathan Quick my Mona Lisa.
Lombardi: He’s not your client, you arrogant prick.
Meehan: He’s not my client, yet, Dean. Yet. So, why did you call me?
Lombardi: I can’t fucking remember.
Meehan: That happens when you’re under a lot of stress because your job is on the line, the fans are starting to call for your head and the leading media columnist wants a piece of you almost as much as I do.
Lombardi: Helene likes me.
Meehan: Oh I am sure. She likes you as much as you like reading about your top six left wing throwing out his back eating pancakes. How is the flying fridge working out for you?
Lombardi: Not too good.
Meehan: Hey, but those Surly & Scribe fools really wanted that trade, didn’t they? Are you still getting your trade ideas from them? Is that why you are so hot and heavy after Zach?
Lombardi: I don’t want to talk about it.
Meehan: Maybe you should put one of those fuckers in charge. I am sure one of them could draft or trade for a top 6 left wing in under 6 years.
Lombardi: I hate you.
Meehan: The feeling is mutual. Take care of that ass for me. I will need it again soon, I am sure. Ciao, bitch.