Tuesday, March 05, 2013
My favourite dream or dreams I guess, was a recurring one where I was me and I found myself in a firefight. I would be at camp or in some unknown landscape and I would be fighting for my life, like one of those old action movie heroes or, I presume from the commercials, one of those video games where you fight an endless wave of enemies. I've never played one but I think that's a good comparison.
So I'd be running and hiding and fighting, shooting guys left right and centre, a whole battalion of them trying to take me down until invariably I took a wrong turn or got trapped and then buddy would level his gun at me and spray me with bullets.
But what was funny is that I wouldn't wake up and actually I wouldn't even go down in the dream, instead it would be as if I had not been shot. And in my dream I would suddenly realize that I am indeed in a dream and that I was invulnerable and from there I would throw caution to the wind and, bulletproof, tear apart my foes. Wasn't as exciting though.
I was out tonight watching the Oilers lose, again, this time to the Blue Jackets. It doesn't get much worse than that folks. Personally I can't get too worked up about it. I figured them as a possible playoff team, its doubtful they get there now although I presume that at some point those pucks start going in. I mean that Eberle miss in OT. Jesus.
But the reality is that Horcoff being out hurts a lot (what is their record without him in the lineup, wow) and Ted is hurt most likely and Hemsky has cooled off now and even when all is said and done they just don't have enough good players. They have more than they have had in a few years but they still don't have enough.
There were three of us out tonight and two of us (myself included) believe that no playoffs means no more Tambellini. And there was much rejoicing.
Except ... except.
Chicago was a franchise that wandered in the wilderness for many many years. They had a nice cluster in the eighties that never got topped up and then Mike Keenan came in and for a few years they were excellent and then the guy who ran the club before Keenan came in stabbed him in the back in a power struggle.
And then for fifteen long awful years the Hawks sucked until Bill Wirtz died and the guy in charge for all of those awful years, before and after Keenan, Bob Pulford, was put out to pasture. A few years later they won the Cup and now they are a model franchise, a club that looks to be in the mix every year. This, my friends, isn't coincidence.
I hate to say it but its true. Kevin Lowe is our Bob Pulford. We are on our fourth coach in five years. The only players who have been through the entire shitshow - Horcoff, Hemsky, Smid. The rest of the cast has turned over and over. The director of scouting has brought his magic to Team Canada (winless since he got there, thanks Kev!!). The assistant GM was sent to Columbus, like Lenin in his sealed train, to infect and destroy the enemy. The owner has changed, minor league coaches dumped, the training staff gutted. Tambo came in to be the frontman and he is next on the firing line and while that may bring us relief and joy the reality is nothing is going to change until the one constant is gone.
Kevin Lowe has got to go and sadly we're stuck with him.
Posted by Black Dog at 11:24 PM