The following communication was found in a dumpster, scribbled on the back of a Greyhound Bus receipt. In the spirit of Wikileaks I'm exposing it to a wider audience so that the actual facts may come out. Some day.

FROM: "Agent V"

TO: "Big Mike"

SUBJECT: They're ALL out to get us!!

Hi Boss. I don't have much time. They're closing in on me. Today I was eating my sandwich on a bench in the park and a pigeon stood and stared at me for a good thirty seconds before it flew away. Later, as I walked to the payphone, I saw the SAME pigeon taking a dump on a statue. It was a coded message, obviously.

I've uncovered a new conspiracy. This could be the BIG one. I think this could be the work of the Pan-Global Elders Of Babylon in cahoots with the Exxon/DeutscheBank/IHOP Multinational Continuum. With a dash of Space Aliens on the side. THAT big.

It seems like THEY will stoop to nothing to disparage our noble band of athletes, whose commitment to Corinthian ideals is second-to-none. This time they have found a new and nefarious way to get around our protective headgear. They are using the medium of Anagrams to spread lies about us throughout the media. Certain codewords appear in newspapers, on TV and all across the interwebscape, codewords not decipherable by so-called "normal" people, but obvious to folks like you and me with our heightened perception. Look out for the following messages in the press. I'll be back in contact once I find a grocery store: my hat got used to roast a chicken and I'm feeling vulnerable.

Agent V out.

Devised Sin=Sedin Dives

A Base, Hideous Ick=Bieksa Is A Douche

Bereft, I Grin=Finger Biter

Abler Dolt Up=Borat Pulled

A Tenth Faker=Fear The Tank

Both Exhort Cam=March To The Box

A Helmets Riot=Rome Hits Late

Harsh, Ache, Contempt=Cheap Shot Merchant

A Showgirls Burns=Burrows, Slashing

Ethos There? Phew!=Where's the Pot, Eh?

and last, but not least

Knees Ache, Lockup=Canucks Choke, Please!?