The Red Wings come into tonight as they have been for years; namely, they are dominant even though I can't figure out why aside from any guy not named Datsyuk or Lidstrom. They are 11-4-1 and are doing their thing once again in the Central Division. Then, well, we have Vancouver. It's somewhat comical that a few weeks ago the city loved this team and now they're resorted to wanting Luongo to give part of his salary back for some soft goals. Oh well, it is what it is. Canucks need a win to crawl back to .500, but it won't be easy. And hell, that should be the new marketing slogan. Maybe a frumpy Bulis with "it won’t be easy’ under it? At least it would be honest.
What to look for: Secondary scoring. I feel this trait isn't even worth denoting 'something to look for' anymore and one more game of a pathetically anemic effort and I'm changing the header to "what to fear". But, trying as I may to eye that silver lining, just about everyone needs to break their slumps and start putting some pucks behind the opposing goalie. That includes Naslund, the Sedins and now perennial dog house occupants Morrison and Bulis. Oh yeah, Kesler? You too…buck up buttercup. Vancouver played well enough against the Flames but couldn't find that extra goal which is more of a liability now then their depleted D line. And, honestly, Hasek is the damn crypt keeper with a wonky groin and we have shifty players with quick wrist shots. Do the math and applicable geometric diagrams and figure out a way to make his night long and annoying (you know, like other teams have made the past few home games for the Canucks that we've all suffered through).
Prediction: Wings 3-1. Assuming the poor play trend continues, I can see the Canucks getting the first goal (Pyatt) and then coughing up two in the second frame. Lidstrom or Chelios will add an empty netter from center ice just so I will be tempted to through my TV out the damn window. Although if I do that and I end up killing my next door 'I love throbbing house music at 2:00 AM' neighbor who is entering the side door of my building, then all's well that ends well.
Random Hilarity: OK, pretend you are Paul Holmgren staring at the shitbox in front of you known as the Flyers. Your team is a mess, can barely score, cannot play defense and is now getting tagged with injuries. You are running out of options, you're getting texts from Bobby Clarke giving you the middle finger (from a beach chair in the Caribbean surrounded by scantily clad 18 year old ladies nonetheless), your wife is threatening to leave you (sure, why not?) and you can't cry in public because then Don Cherry will murder you. So how do you right the sinking ship? Why, you snatch up a guy who just had his face broken at the hands of the missing link. Sure, NOW you’re back in the game!