You don’t “win” the last lockout, then force another one because you’re not satisfied with the way you won the last one. Of course, I realize Bettman is hired and retained by the owners and they’re making money, tons of it. I don’t care. Fire the shrew. He’s ruined our sport and our league. He expanded it to markets that can’t support teams. He’s instituted a cap when one wasn’t necessary, to support the teams he built that never should have been conceived. He’s the laughing stock of all commissioners and he’s universally despised by the most passionate fan base in all of pro sports.

Fire the midget. Fire Bettman. Somehow, someone who cares about the integrity of this game needs to fire him. Publicly.

That’s my only decree. Take as long as you want with this lockout. I don’t give a shit. I’ll live. You won’t read a word of me bitching about withdrawals or about how I’m getting shafted as a fan. And I’ll be here when the season starts. I’m not boycotting my Wings. Sorry, but I’m not part of that stupid movement and empty threat. I’ll be here. If there’s something hockey-related to talk about? I’ll comment here. But as far as the labor negotiations go, with short men in suits arguing publicly about a game neither one cares about? Nope. Not for me.

I’m not reading a single word about the CBA. I don’t care about it. I don’t care about revenue sharing, luxury taxes, arbritration or contract term limits. When the time comes I’ll read about goals and hits, suspensions, playoff seeding and parades down Woodward. The rest of it? Delete. Tell me when the season starts and I’ll be ready.

Just be sure you fire Bettman when it’s all said and done.

Update: Ha. This is frigging classic. Poor little Gallagher at Gametime bitching about what his poor life will be like without hockey, the sport that granted him the opportunity to rip on paraplegics and dimentia victims.

I want to kill Game Time before it becomes a thing I hate. I want to kill it before it becomes a shell of what I’d hoped it could be. I’d rather see it die - rather kill it myself - than let it be slowly strangled by the intermingled hands of two overpaid professional negotiators like Donald Fehr and Gary Bettman.

You’re not just negotiating for your respective parties, you dicks. You’re screwing with your fan base. We have already suffered enough at the hands of our favorite sport, and most of us came back full force. This time, though, I suspect many of us won’t be so forgiving.

This is our sport more than it is yours. And this is my baby more than it is a pawn in your game. Try me.

Haaa…yep. Kill it. Do it. Kill it.