No one — absolutely NO ONE — saw the hockey earthquake that Jason Robertson unleashed on the Montreal Canadiens. What was supposed to be a routine matchup turned into a 6–0 demolition, with Robertson playing like a man possessed, slicing through Montreal’s defense as if they were cardboard cutouts.
Montreal actually looked confident at first. They controlled the puck, threw shots from everywhere, and acted like they came to win.
But then — BOOM — Wyatt Johnston’s opening goal detonated the Canadiens’ entire structure. Whatever defensive plan Montreal prepared for this game evaporated instantly.
From that moment on, it became a Dallas Stars torture exhibition.
Issa Lindell scored.
Tyler Seguin scored.
Every shift felt like Dallas was skating at triple speed while Montreal moved in slow motion.
And then Jason Robertson took over.
His backhand goal? Disrespectful.
His wrist-shot finish? Cold-blooded.
His assist? Effortlessly cruel.
He didn’t just score — he humiliated Montreal.
Meanwhile, the Canadiens’ crease turned into a disaster zone. Jacob Dobes never stood a chance. Shot after shot after shot — he was drowning out there. When he finally got pulled for Sam Montembeault, it didn’t get better. The Stars smelled blood and refused to take their foot off the accelerator.
As if things weren’t bad enough, Montreal lost Alex Newhook to injury, ripping away the little offensive depth they had left. The bench looked defeated. The players looked lost. The coaches looked like they were watching a slow-motion car crash.
On the other side, Casey DeSmith put on a clinic.
Every puck that came his way? Denied.
Every Montreal opportunity? Destroyed.
He walked out with a shutout that might as well have been wrapped in gold foil.
Dallas controlled the puck.
Dallas controlled the tempo.
Dallas controlled the entire identity of the sport for 60 straight minutes.
And at the heart of it all?
Jason Robertson — the assassin in green — announcing that the Stars’ offense is officially back from the dead.
Montreal, meanwhile, is left staring at the wreckage of their entire strategy, asking themselves one terrifying question:
How do you recover after being obliterated on national TV?
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