Thursday, December 2, 2010

The Wild Has Stolen My Soul


This Wild team. Ugh...they just suck the life right out of me. We were kvetching last night in GTRCMBSHP during the game that it was a perfect replay of a Wild game circa two thousand, oh, one and two, three through six and seven and eight.

To wit:

Keep it close with dull, boring play, minimize mistakes, rely on the goalie, then get a late goal to cut the deficit to one, setting up a frantic finish, but, probably, still resulting in a loss.

There was NOTHING to get excited about in last night's game. Even the goals were like "oh...yay and stuff." And, as the terrific Dave Strader and (the improving) Tyson Nash pointed out about 17 times on the Coyotes broadcast, Phoenix was the team that had played Tuesday night.

Havlat. Okay, that was the most exciting thing for the Wild last night. He's still playing much better (I don't care what he says, there is absolutely no doubt he's trying harder now than he was earlier in the season. I don't know why, but for him to say he's not is a joke.) But, even when he's so much better, every game is a Japanese work of art: there's at least one flaw. He and Bouchard looked okay together by the end of the game.

But, when the second line plays well, it just makes me realize what a fucking ball and chain the "top" line is right now. When your entire "top" line is made up of passengers, you've got a problem. That "you" is you, Wild. You, the Wild, have a problem.

At this point, I want Richards to get fired simply for some kind of intrigue around the team.

Okay, I also want him to get fired because he's robbed the team of all purpose and direction.

But, look, someone wake me up when the Wild does something - anything - interesting.

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