April 22, 2009
(Ed. Note: We know a lot of you Puck Daddy veterans have been waiting for this bit to get going, so here goes. As the Stanley Cup Playoffs continue, we're bound to lose some friends along the journey. Gone but not forgotten, we've asked for these losers to be eulogized by the people who knew the teams best: The fans who hated them the most. Here is Chicago Blackhawks fan Raskolnikov of Melt Your Face Off, fondly recalling the St. Louis Blues.)
I moved to St. Louis from suburban Chicago in the fall to pursue a graduate degree in philosophy, a field that emphasizes logic and objectivity over petty attacks.
Little did I know that the neg-burned mulleted Blues fans would unleash my inner ad hominem arguments. (During a class presentation, I told a famous philosopher to "grow some [testicles]" and still received an A-minus.)
Thus, I intend to burn, bury, or dump the 2008-2009 St. Louis Blues in the Mississippi River, whatever it takes.
I assumed that I wouldn't have the honor of laying the Blues to rest during the playoffs because they wanted to kill themselves. Erik Johnson won the 2008 Bill Gramatica Award for most hilarious ACL tear of the year. Andy McDonald missed three months with a broken left leg. Paul Kariya's hip blew up like a Roman candle. Steve Levy can't talk about Eric Brewer's injury without laughing (language NSFW).
Manny Legacé never regained his 2007-2008 form after Mrs. Hockey Mom's carpet (snerk) tripped him during her insidious plan to destroy the Republican Party. She failed, as Missouri still voted for McCain (Correction: Missouri voted for Obama, Missoura voted for Sammy Hagar).
Yet, in spite of the Blues' masochistic ways, the remaining healthy femurs, humeri, and assorted hammers sealed together in early February, gaining 50 out of the final 68 points to not only move into playoff contention, but past the Columbus Blue Jackets, thereby avoiding the top-seeded San Jose Sharks and second-seeded Detroit Red Wings.
Who could have known that beating the Avalanche would be so harmful to a team's postseason eligibility?
I'd like to offer my final farewells to those Blues who helped deepen my hatred of anything resembling an eighth note. In no particular order:
Goodbye, Ron Baechle. Wash those Natural Light Ice-soaked Zubaz, please; God hates Belgian-owned beer.
Goodbye, Andy Murray. I thought I had already defeated you at Zenan Bridge in 600 A.D.
Goodbye, John Kelly. You suck, just not as much as your brother.
Goodbye, Keith Tkachuk. Another season, another 5,000 buffet jokes.
Goodbye, Chris Mason. Manny has picked out a two-bedroom apartment in Peoria for both of you next year.
Goodbye, Roman Polak, who is neither Roman nor Polish.
Goodbye, David Backes. I liked you for five seconds, which means I'm getting soft in my old age.
And finally, goodbye awful deal for a free Dairy Queen Blizzard when the Blues score five goals or more. It's Ted Drewes or bust for me.