Just in case there's anyone left who doesn't think The Shameless Huckster made a pact with the devil, what was up with all of the Oilers wearing Ford toques?

And having to watch The Great Sales Event's daughter lip-synching, badly, while the television cameras fawned over Janet's frozen tears was like a final, brutal, kick in the gut.

In fairness, had the game been held in Québec we would have all been forced to endure Céline Dion butchering Mon Pays . So we can't fault the good kids in Edmonton too much for that one.

(Canadianophiles, before they become too disillusioned, would do well to accept that our dirty little secret is a preternatural ability to export some of the worst performers in the history of popular music. We are, indeed, taking care of business.)