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Part 6 in a series. Read parts 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5.

SUBURBAN VANCOUVER – We had to take cover and bail the oncoming assault of mortars from you-know-who.

Red alert? This was more like taking shelter for a tornado-tsumani-earthquake disaster that opened the Earth and swallowed your soul.

Our Secret League threatened the NHL’s existence as the final grains of sand sifted through the time capsule and the NHL season threatened to die.

And then the NHL took action and launched a full-scale war.

Our “location” was no longer a secret: They discovered we were in suburban Vancouver.

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Part 5 in a series. Read parts 1, 2, 3 and 4.

DATELINE UNKNOWN – It’s been a while since our last report from the “Secret League” — two weeks, to be exact — but the delay is not our fault. Our dispatcher was filing a report, only to see a mortar eliminate our satellite tower.

We were out of action for a week.

And we know who’s responsible for it.
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Part 4 in a series. Read parts 1, 2 and 3.

DATELINE UNKNOWN – Well, it’s been interesting here. We’ve had a full-scale brawl between the Bruins and Canadiens, Todd Bertuzzi whimper like a dog when an electric fence knocked him unconscious, Drew Doughty sipping beers on the bench, five pudgy agents flatten Shane Doan WWF-style, Henrik Lundqvist customize three buses into “Pimpmobiles,” and Ryan Suter join Zach Parise in the penalty box … even though Suter was never penalized.

Hard to believe, but it’s all happened through two weeks of our Secret Season.

And you’ll never believe what happened this week: A missile nearly struck our village.

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Part 3 in a series. Read parts 1 and 2.

DATELINE UNKNOWN – Todd Bertuzzi whimpered like a dog when the electric fence knocked him unconscious. Hey, we warned him: Do not leave … or else. And he certainly discovered our meaning of “else.”

Else equals a tongue-out-of-the-mouth nap.

Else equals a visit to the village infirmary.

Else equals no hockey for a month.

Note to fellow Secret League players: If you’re gonna try and escape, don’t post “abandon ship” on the cafeteria bulletin board.

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Part two in a series. Read part 1 here.

DATELINE UNKNOWN – It probably wasn’t a good idea to house the Montreal Canadiens and Boston Bruins in adjacent buildings. Players from both sides engaged in a war of words in the village commons that transpired into fisticuffs and caused a ruckus so crash-banging loud, it awoke the entire complex.

Sigh.

We’re new at this, but what a numbskull decision.
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We’ve had enough.

We’re sick of this NHL lockout in its 29th day, of jostling among overpaid executives, of hoping for a partial season one day and the despair of a lost season the next.

We’re sick of hearing about our NHL stars going overseas to play for teams you can’t spell in a game of Scrabble.

Sick of it all.

We’re starting our own season. With NHL players. Every single one of them.

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Hockey needs a bastard of a personality – a Jerry Jones, a Mark Cuban, a George Steinbrenner, an owner whose mere presence demands respect among his peers.

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It took seven days to wipe the drool from the keyboard when Columbus traded Rick Nash to the N.Y. Rangers. We’re salivating in excitement, a sensation of blissful ecstasy. We feel like Will Ferrell running to the gymnasium in Old School.

It’s not because Nash makes the Blueshirts instant Cup favorites. And it’s not because NBC Sports Network will carry more Rangers games, and thus, more John Tortorella exposure.

No, our slap-happy silliness derives from one specific fact: Hockey in Columbus is heading toward extinction.
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Daniel and Henrik Sedin are strange. The identical twins signed identical contracts with the Vancouver Canucks multiple times. They room together on road trips. They’ve spent every waking second together since the fetal stage of their development. Heck, I half-expect to see Daniel when viewing Henrik’s Wikipedia page.

The Sedins, however, have an excuse: They’re the Sedins. Weird is just their genetic make-up.

But what’s the excuse for Zach Parise and Ryan Suter, who recently signed identical contracts with the Minnesota Wild? Their peculiar bond during a free-agent-courting spree was like nothing we’ve ever seen before. They exchanged text messages year-round, generated massive speculation among Cup-hungry cities, riled fans in Pittsburgh and Detroit to crazy heights, then …

Landed in Minnesota? That makes the Sedin brothers look like the Blues Brothers.
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The NHL rarely showcases its dark side. The league’s website doesn’t display fights in its GameCenter highlights. Nor does it re-broadcast body checks that are potential suspensions – it does when those hits become official suspensions, as Brendan Shanahan leads the tutorial – but not when the ugly word “potential” still applies.

Our point: Controversial matter always gets swept under Gary Bettman’s cute office rug.

So, of course, the former NBA troll wouldn’t show the entirety of the NHL awards last week in Las Vegas. He killed the cameras when the real fun began.

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