Abel to Yzerman
by IwoCPO on 01/18/12 at 08:55 AM ET
Assume the position. Get on your hands and knees and pretend there is a ceramic bowl in front of you. At the bottom of the bowl, beneath the cool, fetid toilet water, there is an image of a 60-year old, hook-nosed tiny man in a house dress kissing the cheek of a man-child with a stupid mustache, a Coldplay t-shirt and a headache. It’s a horrible image made worse by the vomit you violently spew into the ceramic bowl. Again and again and even one more time for the third again.
But don’t deceive yourself into thinking that it’s the disgusting “C”-less image at the bottom of that bowl that’s making your tummy rumble. No. The cause of your discontent is what’s ailing us all.
This may be the last run for #5.
Personally? I believe he’ll be back for one more season, maybe two.
But holy hell I’ve been wrong a lot about stuff like that and I’ve got nothing to go on but my gut and a redacted transcript of a recent conversation that took place in an SUV heading to downtown Detroit from the sleepy Swedish town of Novi, MI.
Ni___las _______strom: “I’ve given this great thought, my friends. I plan to return to our chosen club, to defend a title I know will be ours again, and to do so with the ultimate fitness and mental dexterity that has become the hallmark of gentlemen warriors like you and I. I’ve discussed this with the mother of my children and she nodded her assent, as she will continue to do because I forbid anything else. I shall return, return with the fellows to join—once again—in the noblest of all pursuits. Will you skate with me one more time, old friends?”
T___as _______strom: “You have captain of my sack another 17 months of cricket?”
Hank Z_______berg: “Jesus Homer”
The recording is scratchy, so that might be off a little but you get the idea.
Ok. Seriously. Is Nick coming back? We don’t know, but what we do know is that no season in history has ever felt like Lidstrom’s last like this one has. Got it?
Everything we know points to a departure: age, family, logic. Every mainstream story you read about the Wings on game-day features a sentence about the imminent retirement. Every message board or blog from a rival (all, in their opinions, 29 of them) love to point out the absolute certainty that the Wings will be basement dwellars, like Denver, the day St. Nick hangs them up.
I don’t agree with the guarantee that the Wings will no longer compete after Lidstrom leaves, but that’s a subject for another day. Actually, some may believe the whole subject should be tabled until the giggling 8 pounder has assured us of #12 in June.
I think it’s relevant now though, and I think Tick Tock Kenny Holland and my Uncle Mike think so, too. I think they might be viewing this run in a real special way. Different than other special runs at the Cup.
This one could very well be Lidstrom’s Last. And if it is, all effort should be expended, no one left as “untouchable”, no cost too high. This should be a shopping spree, an orgy of hockey talent, all waiting to bathe in the 5.7 million bucks Holland has at his disposal.
And it means you might have to set aside some hate: Perry? Selanne? Doan?
Oh stop. Remind me about all the Chelios as a Blackhawk posters you had in your room. None, eh? Got it. We hated his ass. Hated him. And we hated Wendell Clark, while we’re at it. Right George? Until March 23, 1999, that is. Can you think of three more detestable players to gain at a trade deadline than those two plus Ulf Samuelsson? Oh and, hey, how many Dallas Drake jerseys did you own when he was a Star or a Bitter Bitch of a Blue? Verbeek? Shanahan, even?
You hate Corey Perry? Me too. More than any player in the league. But, brother? You know the question and, deep down inside, you know the answer. I might not be able to type it and just thinking about it might make you feel warm in bad places. But you know the answer.
And so does Holland.
“But the trade deadline is coming. We have a lot of cap space. We’ve done a lot of drafting and developing since 2005, saving our picks. I don’t know if we have to do anything, but certainly in the next six weeks we’re going to explore.”
Coming from Ken Holland that’s a virtual proclamation that he’s going for broke.
Parise? Don’t wait for the summer. Buy now, big boy. Suter? You betcha. All in for Nick. All in for the Swede’s last run. And if he’s back next year? Well, shit Kenny? Do it again.
Oh, and another way to look at it would be like this: If Holland makes that “big splash” in about six weeks? If he makes a deal that has “Cuppy, cuppy, cuppy” written all over it? There’s your clue that The Perfect Human is on his way out of town. If it’s just an accent move, a minor thing to fill in the gaps and serve as insurance? Then it’s safe to say the Captain hasn’t given Holland firm word, either way, or he’s told him flat out that another year in Detroit is in the cards.
No reason to think TPH is making it a secret. If this is it, the last run…then Holland already knows. Soon enough, so will we. Way before the parade in June.
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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: firstname.lastname@example.org