Bloody Monday: Pillars of Slush

This week is sacrilicious.

2009 reminded us that towers can be built on sand, financed with positive thoughts, and still look great while they stand upright. Success is proof of concept, until it is not. People who have their shit so together it's unbelievable, should probably not be believed.

A lot of happy things are going down in the NHL. How likely are they to last? 

~

In Which We Win A Lot

Take a good hard look at this motherfucking chart.

In the last month, we have beaten Chicago, the #1 team in the league. We have beaten Pittsburgh, the defending champs. We broke two team curses by beating Atlanta for the first time in two years and St. Louis for the first time in eleven (!). We win on consecutive nights. We win 1-0. We win 5-2. We win on the road and we win dramatically at home. Buffalo is just walking up and down the street, smacking bitches.

Most importantly, for the first time in years, we're winning without Ryan Miller in net.

You can sit this one out. It's cool.

No really. We've been cycling through backup goalies every year, writing off games where we have to rest Miller. His greatness, plus the fact that he works in the odd Buffalo system (play as a 3rd defenseman, handle the puck, forget shutouts), made him irreplaceable. "Irreplaceable" is a bad word in hockey.
 

We're gonna need another Timmy.

Patrick Lalime. The 35 year old perpetual backup, on his way out of the sport. Not the guy you suddenly expect to grow a 3rd testicle in December, and start collecting shutouts. Not the guy who would say, be brought in to replace Miller, shut down the Penguins, and backstop the team to a 4-goal comeback. Not that guy until now.

Awesome. But if you watch the team, you see familiar seams in the armor. Yeah it's fun to go down 2-0 and 3-0 and make thrilling comebacks, but why do we bother taking it to the face for half the game? Why is the #2 team in the East outshot in the first period? Why does our 6 Million Dollar Import go whole weeks without scoring? 

Take any team that's made it to the final recently, and describe them with 10 adjectives. You know what word you won't find on that list? "Snuffleupagus."

Also, "streaky."

We're streaky. And everyone knows it.
 

A Bad Good Stat

Still, "streaky" might be better than "headless." Check out that #1 Chicago team again. They get better every year. Fast, young guys up front, violent old guys in the back, and lost Buffalo treasure Brian Campbell showing everyone how full-team rushes and power plays work.

Soupy Come Home! 

Plus, they have the best goal horn of all time. Whenever Chicago scores, there's a brief siren that fades into the chorus of Chelsea Dagger. The entire stadium dances. It's the greatest scoring incentive since money.

ESPN trumpets this week that Chicago has the "league-lowest shots against." Which is good. They have an aggressive d and fast forwards and solve problems in the neutral zone. But ...

They have no goaltender.

Yeah. Since the 'Bulin Wall departed northward, they've cycled in both their goalies as starters, and been satisfied with neither. There have been a whole mess of games like last week's against Anaheim, where 3 weak goals trickle in, but the Hawks make up for it by scoring 6.

This is a playoff disaster waiting to happen. When you have to take shots from a good team over and over in a series, a soft net will kill you. So in retrospect, that Shots Against stat might be an "A" in Baseball Philosophy of Gender. Great kid, but you still can't read.

And you look like a penis in a little hat.

Moving on.
 

We Outlasted Seal!

Yes it's true. The NHL Winter Classic makes more money each year. It has fights, overtime, BCS-level ratings, air force flyovers, and Denis Leary yelling "Sweet Caroline" at hockey fans during a snowstorm.

The whitest thing to happen. Ever.

And you know what, NBC is finally showing its hockey contract respect. It stopped following the Ice Bowl with eye-rolling holiday filler like Seal on Ice. They lined up some new programming, and following the Classic, fans can enjoy:
 

...

I hate everything.
 

Give My Kids More Ice TIme

The Olympic Roster is out! Hockey Jesus is starting, of course. In front of him ... half the human beings living in Central Michigan and Upstate New York.

Which begs the goddamn question: no (Syracuse) Tim Connolly? No (Detroit) Mike Grier? My favorite two players, from the #2 team, who play with your starting goaltender? There was no room for these fine motherfuckers? 

I would bitch about this more, but first, neither will get hurt in Vancouver, and both will rest for the playoff run. Second, let's line any group of mammals up against the Canadian list of Crosby, Heatley, Iginla, Toews, Neidermeyer, Pronger, Brodeur, Morrow ...

I just wet 'em again.

So! Lindy Ruff is coming back with a gold medal and new sunglasses, and my favorite line will get a month to write best-selling guides to waxing your scalp and sneaking past defenders.

Failure: it could be worse.
 

Legs, and the Biting Thereof.

Detroit can no longer play hockey, as it has no hockey players.

This follows on my prediction two years ago, that the only way to victory was to put them down like feral zombies of the ice. This team has had a great run, playing the AARP Swedish All-Stars in what was pretty much a conspiracy to dodge the salary cap. But you can only put so many brilliant, brittle pelvises on the ice before fortuna gives you a good rogering.

Ubermench Niklas Lidstrom and the AHL callups will do their best. Even in the face of hilarious defeat, no one expects any less.
 

Solid hip check.

Keep bleeding!