The Singular High:
- Mr. Neil welcomes you to the big leagues: To hear Leaf Nation tell it, Luke Schenn is some sort of bastard hybrid built from a combination of Cliff Fletcher's senile imaginings and bits of Hap Day's dessicated corpse. That may all be well and good, but the youngster may want to pick his spots a little better. Hint: Running after Chris Neil to "avenge" a hit on a teammate that never actually happened isn't one of them. So...how's your face feeling today, Luke?
- This is as good a place to start as any: Oh, how innocent and lovely it all seemed at the time. You, the rugged, macho impresario and me, the coquettish ingenue seduced by the swagger and musky odour. But like all summer romances, Gator, things fade. Perhaps not seeing the number on your back as you fish yet another puck out of our own net would rekindle the flame. Oh...and maybe hitting a few guys too. That would be nice.
- Another such victory we are undone: According to legend, those words were related by Dionysius to his King, Pyrrhus, whose army suffered irreplaceable casualties in defeating the Romans. Hence, the term "Pyrrhic Victory" has come to define a meaningless gain at the cost of the greater good. What does this have to do with anything? Filip Kuba has 11 points in 5 games. Damn near a record. Very nice, yes? Um...no. In those five games, with his 11 points, he's barely breaking even at +1.
- This bit always worked for my mom: I'm very disappointed in you. Honestly, of all the things I imagined could possibly go wrong this year, you weren't one of them. And yet, here we are. You won't hit anyone. You're constantly caught out of position. And when those big meanies in the different coloured shirts bother our poor goalie, you just stand there like a useless lump. So, Christon Phillchenkov, what do you have to say for yourself?
I've climbed down a little from the ledge I found myself on roughly 13 hours ago. Losing to the Laffs will do that to me. Being one point out of last place in the entire freakin' League will do that to me. Sure, we can't (or won't) hit, can't (or won't) shoot, can't (or won't) clear the crease, can't (or won't) take care of our own zone, and yeah, the D is getting torched to the outside before getting its ass handed to it night after night after night... But, no, this isn't the worst Senators team since '93. It can't be. 15, 19 and 11 aren't exactly Bob Kudelski, Sylvain Turgeon and Jody Hull, and never will be...thank Christ. Which brings me to...
Unsolicited Advice Because I'm A Fan, And I Know Everything:
- Stop screwing around, Coach: The top line stays together. Full Stop. If you can't figure out how to get Verms or Fish or Kelly or anybody with a fucking pulse from the bottom three lines to the front of the net, then you don't deserve the Big Whistle. Yeah...we're fickle bastards, we fans. Deal.
- A small side bar with regard to our achilles heel: Buckle up, Alex. You're the man now, dawg. Until Brian Elliot is good to go, our playoff hopes rest squarely on your 6'5" shoulders. Oh...you think October is a little early for that kind of pressure? Check the standings, buckwheat. Two points is two points, no matter when they come. What's that? Gerber? Screw him. He's done.
- There are far too many things wrong with this team that will fit here: But I'll get to them. Never fear.
Tomorrow night, on the road against the division leading (and undefeated in regulation) Buffalo Sabres. There's no local t.v. for this, and since I was too cheap to spring for Centre Ice (Sorry Gary, but Sunday Ticket ate up my entire Useless Subscription Budget for this year) I will be mercifully spared the inevitable ass raping we'll be enduring. On the upside, it leaves me free to craft a 3000 word opus on how many things are wrong with this team. Won't that be fun?
Behind Enemy Lines:
Fellow NY Times unpaid intern/indentured serf Kate, at the Willful Caboose brings her special brand of gleeful incredulity to our little corner of the Tubes. If I can offer but one piece of advice...enjoy it now Kate. Because the inevitable crash really, really sucks. Trust me.