Most of you know I started a new job in May and it's one I've wanted my entire career. In order to do it right, I've had to devote considerable time to it. My family will attest to that, believe me. But most of you have realized it too. Blogging hasn't been possible. Paul's carried me. George and Red Menace too.

But Balboa wasn't fond of being carried and he let Mickey know that at the 22 minute mark of Rocky III, one of the most dramatic moments in American film history. I'm not a fan of it either, and I told Paul this morning that an exit strategy was in order. I'm not going to drag this out. I'm not going to sporadically post (anymore). I'm just gonna call it quits and thank all of you for being great friends. I'm not sure what's going to come of A2Y. I carry no parochial rights to the name or the blog, itself. I'd say that if any of you are interested in stepping up, Paul would be very willing to listen. The Live Blogs have carried Abel to Yzerman for the last couple years and I know the staple they've become for many of you on game day.

It's hard to believe we've been going this long. Together we've experienced some of the greatest moments in Red Wing history and we've suffered together through some soul-crushing episodes. We've seen this team shift generations. We watched Nick Lidstrom hoist his final Stanley Cup together and it's incredible to think that, as a group of 19, we never saw The Captain do the same.

We've waged silly wars with Dive fans, Pens fans, Duck fans, a Predator fan and the three people in Missouri who can read. We've met Darren Garcia and cherished him for the city he represented so well. We hated things together. Oh, my. Did we ever levy some hate. Mostly me, but you guys too. Gary Bettman was target A#1. As I go out, I'd like to say to you Gary that I respect your role as commissioner of this great league and despite the criticism thrown at you here and from other corners, you're a good man and your integrity should never have been questioned the way it was here from time to time.

Re-phrase: you're a paranoid shrew who leads a pathetic league through incompetence, personal greed, personal bias and sheer stupidity. You're a laughingstock and ripping you to shreds has brought me pleasure that borders on the physical.

Sorry. Got off track.

We rode Stress Trains together, nearly two hundred of them stretching across 8 Springs (minus Gary's lockout year...you fuch). We created juvenile names and they stuck: Charlie Buckets and William Tell. Tick Tock and Stillwuzzi, our favorite serial killer. Wally and James Tiberius Howard. You talked about his dong a lot. We suffered through sphincter minutes and whiskey dick. We loved our coach and we hated him. We trusted him and we envied his hair. We questioned him and we hailed him when he proved to be brilliant, which he is. We begged Manny Legace to stop talking about it, and just do it. We still talk about penalty kills from Kirk Maltby, Darren Helm and Hank Zetterberg. We despised our villains: the Talbots, the Prongers, the Niedermayers. Many others.

We picked fights with other blogs. We stuck together at all times. We drank together and RWBill tried to pick up my wife right in front of me. We are transplants and we are Michigan natives who never left. I'll always consider myself one of you, long after I've typed my last word here in a few minutes.

Paul has put up with a lot where A2Y is concerned. Man, the emails he's gotten. If I was a chick I'd put "LOL" right there. The complaints from the masses about the fact that I may have said something a little offensive. But only a little. He never once asked me to remove a word. Never changed a single post. Never did anything but defend us for our right to have an opinion. He's been a great boss and a great friend.

I had a blast here. I did. I loved letting my mind wander and flow through the keyboard right to this blog. Little structure. Very little discipline. Even less neutrality. I never claimed to be anything other than an arrogant Wing fan who happened to have people to talk to about it. I loved it. Truly.

But I don't have the time and, honestly, I can't remember the last post I gave you that was more than a few paragraphs and even those felt forced. I told my wife about this today and she asked if it was permanent or a sabbatical or what. I'd say it's permanent. I don't see my job slowing down and, I don't know...maybe I'll throw something up when the playoffs start. But I'm not counting on it. I plan to be at sea, on a Destroyer, probably throwing up because that thing moves in heavy seas, brother.

Thanks for reading me the last (almost) 9 years. Thanks for your friendship and your loyalty to the greatest organ-i-zation in sports. Ever.

Somewhere Murph is frigging wasted. The Cup comes back to Detroit about 20 Tuesdays from the next one. 16 more wins to 12.

I'm out. Bitches.