Abel to Yzerman
by IwoCPO on 01/23/12 at 08:30 PM ET
So I guess it’s on then. Another chance for another baby brother to flex and stomp and spew their bluster. January hockey for another wannabe and a game that for them is the “most important of the season”, yet for the Wings is just…January hockey.
I don’t have to point you anywhere to tell you just how pumped Blues fans are. We know they’ve been lifting all day and choking down Pall Malls in between sets.
Most of them—statistics show—have been raised, and even conceived, by first or second cousins. Literacy, hygiene and electricity are frowned upon. Few even realize where the city of St. Louis is and even fewer have actually attended a hockey game. But, for some reason, they’ve latched on to this train wreck of a franchise and have refused to let go.
They deserve substantial credit for that, for this loyalty to a team that has brought them nothing but statically transmitted losing seasons of Blues hockey.
Most of all though, and this is frequently discussed in the dark corners of The Hasek, where Voox refuses to let the youngsters frolic, Blues fans live to hate you, Red Wing fans. Even in times like these, the cold months, when double rainbows make them quiver along with winning records and disgustingly misguided hope, they reserve a spot in their pointy heads for a very legitimate brand of bitterness.
It’s legitimate because we have custody of them. Physical, legal custody. The Blues laugh when Detroit lets them. Blues fans smile when we allow it. If the sun shines on that shithole of a city it’s because Ken Holland gave the swaddled gift child a nod and a wink.
Oh, but now they’re competitive. Now they have a big eater at the helm and all is well. All. Is. Well. Right up there with the big boys: Detroit and the middle brother in Chicago. If the playoffs started today, they’d be the 4 seed. Oh the chills.
But, alas Babylon, it’s only January. And if Blues fans have learned one thing over the last twenty years…it’s that January means exactly jack shit. Nonetheless, here they are and good for them. The little tykes. Good for them.
We’re wondering though, Blues fans. Oh yes. We’re wondering when the fall will come, because it always does. We’re wondering if maybe it won’t start tonite in cozy little Joe Louis, where the bad men play and the noises hurt, where the memories are brutal.
Sooner or later, because history and providence and everything else that is holy decree it, the wheels are coming off. And just like every year since 1997, we’ll be there to remind you that talking shit about Vladimir Konstantinov guarantees you nothing but earned sadness.
It’s a Live Blog, bitches. And if you’re a Blues fan, just dropping in…Fuch Detroit? Oh no my friends. Oh no. Fuch you.
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Welcome to Abel to Yzerman, a Red Wing blog since 1977. No other site on the internet has better-researched, fact-laden and better prepared discussions than A2Y. Re-phrase: we do little research, find facts and stats highly overrated and claim little to no preparation. There are 19 readers of A2Y. No more, no less. All of them, except maybe one, are juvenile in nature. Reminding them of that in the comment section will only encourage them to prove that. Your suggestions and critiques are welcome: email@example.com