Abel to Yzerman
by IwoCPO on 04/20/11 at 07:10 AM ET
Screw it. I’ll be your huckleberry.
Finish this tonite. Press down. Sweep this mediocre team off the ice. End this farce and send Shane Doan on his way to another offseason of pouting and pondering just who really was the “best player in the series.”
Sweep this fraud and then rest up and wait.
You’ve read it from Uncle Mike and you all know why. Why play a game you don’t have to play? Every unnecessary shift is an injury waiting to happen. Every bit of energy is something that could somehow be conserved and used when it matters, against San Jose, or Vancouver, or even Bubba.
Speaking of San Jose? Jesus. Jeeeesus LA. I want to be angry at you, but more than that? I understand. I’m finally learning that there is nothing more stressful for a fan than a big lead in hockey with lots of time to kill. 4 goal lead: neato. 4-2 lead: not so fun. 5-3 with more than 30 minutes left? Nausea. 5-4 and then 5-5, 44 seconds apart: absolute heaving, steaming, stinking, chunky vomit. The loss in OT: resignation because you pictured it back when it was 4-2. Don’t lie. You know you did. We’ve all been there. Maybe not as bad as that, but we’ve had nightmares of it. That game, right there, for those fans, is precisely why the playoffs are just not fun.
Speaking of leads? When the Wings were up 2-0 in Game 3, the douche bags were firing everything they could at our little brother Jim Howard, and he was fantastic. Fan-fauxing-tastic. Every game he’s been good, but Game 3 may have been The One. He had Swagger and, oh, don’t we dig that. The kick save on Aucoin, I think? 6, 7, 8 feet outside the crease, challenging that frigging bazooka. Nasty, cocky glove saves. While Breezy was holding on to every puck, inviting faceoffs into his own end because he’s so snakebit right now that he’s afraid to play the puck. Oh, and he’s whining like a bitch.
“I’m wondering ‘How can this happen?’ We expected it to be different, not down 3-0. I just want to win one game. That’s what I want.”
Wantin’ ain’t gettin’ Breezy. Tee times await.
I’ve read the eeyore comments and I get it. I understand everything the realists are saying. But I’ve got a feeling about this. I’ve got a feeling that this team learned a critical lesson when they let Phoenix stretch them to 7. This thing ends tonite or in 5. Then it’s rest while others sort themselves out and wear each other down. It’s rest so that Hank gets better and Uncle Mike starts some real serious, real necessary work on the PK. Because, while I tend not to agree with anyone who chooses to point out even the smallest fault with our team, that kill needs some help.
That will start, of course, with Nick Lidstrom. Hey Phoenix, this is how convinced Detroit is that you are, by far, the inferior team: Lidstrom isn’t even killing penalties. The smartest killer in hockey history, the most effective positional defenseman ever, isn’t killing penalties because it’s unnecessary. That’s not to say we can afford to let the PK slip, which it has. It’s closer to this: score on the power play if you have to, every once in a while, because we’re gonna kick your ass anyway because even up? There’s no comparison. None.
Sweep these bitches right out of Phoenix. If that’s the result, oh well. Unfortunate for the Wings players who will have to travel to, yeah, Winnipeg, twice a year. But, awesome because nothing says your commissioner’s a fuchhead like moving a team back to the city from which they moved because the city they moved to is a dumb place to try and move a pro hockey team. In other words: suck it Gary. Ass.
I haven’t watched much hockey this year. Only three games since 1 December or something. So, to me, the best part about seeing this team play again has been the improvement of Darren Jebediah Helm. Holy. Hell. I love watching that kid play hockey. Watching him drill Jovo-douche then get the assist on Salei’s goal was pornographic. I usually relax a bit when Lidstrom’s on the ice. Now I say the same for Helm. For some reason, I just feel comfortable knowing he’s out there because nothing ever comes easy for the other guy while 43’s on the ice.
Sweep. Bring the brooms with you Transplants. Sweep this team. Sweep them and let’s wait for the next one.
13 to 12, bitches. See you for the Live Blog.
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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