A Blow to the Heart of the Hopelessly Optimistic

I didn't want to get out of the shower this morning because I knew this blog would shortly follow. I've been saying it all along, but somehow the reality of the situation is darker and more painfully depressing than the predictions could have ever made it out to be.

I knew the Wings were not going to make it back to the Joe. I knew it. All logical inclinations showed that they didn't have it in them to make a game seven reality. I also knew that a two goal lead going into the third was not good enough; that was not enough to win. The Oilers are a tricksey team and I knew they would tie it. I pictured another multiple overtime win going in Edmonton's favor. But they finished the job they wanted to do: off the famed Detroit Red Wings on home ice. They did that, congratulations. Their passion and hunger drove them to the succeeding point. And I am thankful, although I wanted to return one last time to my section, that they lost on the road. Losing in the first round is painful enough, doing so at home is even worse. I've only seen these kind of aching disappointments in my tenure at Joe Louis. Well, they made it to the second round once. The excitement and hope grew; the loss devestating.

Why did they lose, really? The Wings have no competition in their division to stand a chance against the rest of the league. That's why we won so many games and lost so early. It's easy to win when you play teams like Chicago, Columbus, and St. Louis eight times each a year. So are we really the most talented team the Detroit media makes us seem? No. Only because of the solid experience in the locker room and pressure/hope/belief of the fans and media make it seem like we are.

So what now becomes of this team? I would say recuit new defensemen and younger, fresher forwards. Make Zetterberg, Datsyuk, Williams, and perhaps Kronwall the focus and build a team around their strengths and weaknesses. Take the spotlight off those whose time in it has passed. Mr. Illitch should step up and fire Ken Holland. This is the fourth year the Wings have exited early from the playoffs. In Detroit, that is less-than-acceptable. There is a certain expectation of springtime hockey in this city. If people are going to jump on the players and judge who goes and who stays and who retires, they should take a close look at the front office and place blame on those who are high and mighty within the organization.

And me? I've been threatening retirement for a while now. I said I'd go out with Luc and whichever Wing is smart enough to let his legend become cemented in hockey's history. I'm not sure I can do that. I'd miss my usher friends. I'd miss my ticket holders. I'd miss Al. I'd miss my beer guys. I'd miss the atmosphere in the arena on game day. I'd miss sitting in the peaceful rink before doors open contemplating whatever is on my mind. I'd miss studying the banners in the rafters during boring spots in the game. I hoped I would return one final game in the fall to see a banner rise and join the glorious past. Not this year. Not yet.

Once in my lifetime I would like to witness an original six Cup final. Just once. That's all I ask. It had better happen before we move to the Eastern Conference when the Penguins relocate to Winnipeg (knock on wood). Now comes the painful task of crossing off Detroit from my playoff matchups and hope to God that Calgary can deep fry those damn Ducks into oblivion tomorrow night.