Homo Homer

Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want

April. The cruelest month. Mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with Spring rain.

Yup. We're helpless.

Yup. We’re helpless.

How do we put this? There just wasn’t a whole lotta Captastical in “America’s Hockey Capital” this season…even if that motto doesn’t send you screaming out a window.

How bad was it? Not even Red Rally Balloon (or blimp) could have saved this squad this season. Face it: our defense was weaker than wet Kleenex, our five-on-five as shriveled as Donald Rumsfeld’s conscience, and our goalie-go-round more confused than Chris Christie in a SweetGreen.

This is exactly what this season felt like. Exactly.

This is exactly what this season felt like. Exactly.

Moar? How about a sclerotic front office? Asinine line switch-ups? Trades and acquisitions more tone-deaf than Alec Baldwin at an ACT-UP meeting, inconsistent play, no Olympic medal for Ovi, crappy t-shirts and I’m waiting in line for 20 minutes and you’re just now telling me you have no hot dogs. TED Y U NO HAVE HOT DOGS?!?!

In summa, this season was a swift one to the nads. Over, and over again…hard, swift and directly to the giggleberrys. Just one giant bad touch of a season.

Now to be fully honest, it’s not like the entire hockey season was without moments of happy. Torts got canned and flamed out way out west…so that was a special little snowflake of schadenfreude, yah?

Scandinavian good guys Sweden and Finland overturned the Olympic apple cart and brought home some sweet metal – even Nicky finally got his – even if crybaby Crosby snagged yet another blah blah please start shutting up about Crosby it’s not ruining my feels. And how many Wings won a bit of that?

WinterClassic1 Pavel Gregory Shamus GettySpeaking of, how about that Winter Classic? Scotty Bowman coaching at the alumni game? Red Kelly? Ted Lindsay? Mr. Hockey freakin’ Gordie Howe? And the game itself – Wings v Leafs, original six, out in a blizzard, at the Big House?

I wasn’t there but I can still taste the cocoa, the kishka, the iced beer. I can hear, once again, the amazing amplitude of being there, in Michigan stadium, cold as a Ryan budget…the roar that can only come from a humongous hole in the ground with 100,000 vocalists shouting in the world’s largest theater-in-the-round? Mmmm. Can you tell from my swelling pride that I’m a native Michigander? Detroit to be specific.

Sure, Toronto won. Just. But what a cherry pie. Capitals_Red_Wings_Hockey-04c38

And what about that Caps-Wings home and home match-up earlier this year? First game in Detroit; hard fought at the Joe, the place on its feet for overtime, and a lightning bolt of a shoot-out win for 1 for the Wings.

Then two days later, here in your nation’s crapital, the arena electric with dueling Wings and Caps tribes, the game teeter-tottering like a Hollywood movie, maybe this, maybe that, only then after OT and another shootout and a lazer shot that wins it for the Caps…



Two teams. Two games. Each witha thrilla win at home; each with three points. Best.

So…looking back, here in the Mirkwoods of playoffs, what path does a Wings-transplant/Caps-transplantational patient take?

It’s right there. Capitals, love you, go golf and figure yourselves out. Wings?

I can pivot.

If the United States government with all its whatnot and Humpheroo and phoofehrah can pivot from something…we think Iraq, or Afghanistan, someone?… to Russia,or to South East Asia and the…um we really don’t know what we’re doing and really just need to stop here because confused

I am pivoting.

We are seeking a reset of relations with the Wings. We still believe in the innate greatness of the Capitals as an ideal; our founding ideas. And yet, we can recognize the much older nobility of a culture that preceded us; namely, the Red Wings. Home sweet home.

This is not a battle of old vs. new; of east vs. west. This is a recognition of all that we share and agree on. That hockey matters. And that I really really really need a Cup this year.

WingsNation: please please please. Please. Start by humiliating the filthy B’s.

– Sincerely, Doug

WingsPlayoffNationPS: Oh hellz yeah. BTW: looks like Wings Nation extends far across this nation.

What unites Alaska, Alabama, Washington, Tennessee, Louisiana, TenneTucky and the Great Lakes State?

Yup. America – north and south, rich and poor, pooter and critter – knows hockey. And they are Detroit Hockey Nation.

Oh, and look who we’re picking to go all the way!

SCP Bracket




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