What the Actual Fuck Anymore?!
I’m writing this as a semi Morning After/Game Day/personal vent blog for today because honestly this team doesn’t deserve multiple blogs in one day right now. I don’t want to donate my time to them. I am vehemently disappointed. This is an asshole of a year.
I guess the good news is we are incredibly good at losing. Nobody loses like we lose. We basically invented the art of humiliatingly sucking shit every night. And everybody out there knows it too:
I’m definitely listening to Edmonton postgame talk radio tonight. Nobody can carve like Oiler fans when they’re pissed off
— Adrian Dater (@adater) November 22, 2017
That dude covers the Avs. He’s out there in Colorado stoned off his nuts while hammering Papa John’s and even he knows to tune into Ched for some world class entertainment. You’re goddamn right we carve. This is our turf baby. Bring back those notes from the decade of darkness and let’s collectively stink again amiright fam?! *cries in the corner* *punches face into concrete inanimate object*
Brayden Schenn burped and it knocked Klef off the puck. Two seconds later it deflected off Larsson’s stick and went into the net. It was the beginning of what was just a torturous night by Klefbom and Larsson, something that is possibly only akin to trying to assemble IKEA furniture after a night of heavy drinking. And speaking of torture, here’s the Iceman letting in a wrist shot from the third row:
That was it for Cam, who stopped one of the three shots he faced. In came LB. Welcome to hell, my dude.
Faceoff. Puck possession. Shot. Rebound. Goal. We were outshot 14-7 in the frame of a trailing two goal game. This was one of their last shots of the period:
Adam Larsson with a mistake that would make the ghost of Justin Schultz shiver. The forwards are turning up ice because that puck should have been possessed and transitioned up the ice but instead was easily picked off and then not even two seconds later was in the back of our net.
And if we weren’t feeling like we were stuck in the decade of darkness yet, this period really fired us all into something equivalent of a catastrophic nuclear shit storm. Trigger warnings galore. This will remind you all of the old days:
You know what, that’s enough. I will not subject you to the rest of the period. We’ve been through too much together to have to watch this shit anymore.
8-3 Blues, final.
Me, the entire period:
What the actual fuck, Oilers? Specifically, Peter and Daryl and Todd. You three. Are you happy? This is all your doing. You three have collaboratively blown this team into oblivion to the point where we have virtually no cap and no assets left to make any substantial changes worth doing. Peter came into town with the goal of improving our defense. He traded arguably our best asset not named Connor McDavid for Adam Larsson, he signed Kris Russell to a 4 year $16 million contract that has a goddamn no trade clause stuffed in there for literally no reason at all. And of course, his deal that sent a first and a second round pick to the Islanders for a guy who now plays for an expansion team’s farm team was the cherry on top of this shit sundae. Two years later, what’s Petey trying to do?:
Dreger: “Edmonton, for certain, is looking for a defenseman.”
— Platinum Seat Ghosts (@3rdPeriodSuits) November 21, 2017
OH GOOD THAT’S WORKED.
We got goddamn Todd out there insisting on playing Lucic in the top six despite all the evidence indicating he’s slower than rush hour traffic after a snowfall. The only reason he’s not playing 18+ per night is because we usually are penalized for about 8-10 minutes per game, and half the time he’s literally the one in the penalty box. In two years, when he’s somehow even slower, he’ll still be under contract for another three years and will still be making $6 mil against the cap.
And then there’s Daryl Katz. I blame him for all of this shit mess. You’d think Daryl would be concerned about the direction of this team but he’s instead too busy sitting on all that taxpayers’ arena money in his Vancouver penthouse while telling women he’s the Fairy Godfather.
Are you familiar with Plutarch’s Paradox of Theseus? It’s this ancient philosophical thought provoking experiment that raises the question of whether an object that has had all of its components replaced remains fundamentally the same object. Plutarch asks that if while Theseus is traveling across the sea, and each day a plank from his boat is replaced with a new one so that when he reaches his destination no part of his boat is the same as when he departed, is he still riding the same boat? So let me ask you: If the Oilers have changed all the pieces of their organization – the GM, the head coach, the captain, the best players, the worst players, the goalies, the arena, the jerseys, etc. – except for like Ryan Nugent-Hopkins and the logo on the front (and even that’s been marginally altered to some degree) AND, most importantly, the owner, are they still the same Oilers? That’s a definitive yes. Same goddamn Oilers. I don’t care how dark their blue is. I don’t care what arena they play in. We added the best generational player since Gretzky or at the very least since Crosby onto our roster and we’re still going to pick in the top 5 this year. So long as the person controlling everything remains constant, it’s the same boat. Daryl, this is on you. Get a goddamn grip on your organization.
It’s entirely possible that last year was an anomaly, and if so, that’s even more cruel than if we had simply missed the playoffs. They gave us this little taste – “they” being literally whichever god or gods is/are aroused by the mere thought of tormenting our souls. A tease, if you would. A game called ‘just the tip’… just for a second, just to see how it felt to make the playoffs and achieve relevance again. We thought it would be forever, that good hockey was here to stay and that these new players and these new uniforms were what we needed to be a competitive team again. It’s Theseus’ Paradox, if only instead each time he departed his boat crashed into the rocks and gave him splinters and also fucked his wife and took a dump on his rug.
That’s all. I’m done. No Gator’s Grinder. No MOP. No hot tweet because my Twitter will explode just trying to find any. Just forget about it, or try your very best to. We play Detroit today. Here’s your condensed game day blog:
Tonight’s Opponent: Detroit.
They have seven more points than us. They’re 13 positions higher in the standings than us. They’ve scored 10 more goals than us. They’ve allowed 14 less goals than us. Their arena is even somehow newer than ours. We’ll probably lose. But I’ll never bet against us. I don’t care how verbally vicious I am towards this team, I’ll never do it. Only site in the world to predict perfect seasons during the decade of darkness, and so long as Connor is in our colours this will not be anything remotely similar to that painful, soul-crushing, liver-devouring phenomenon that was 10 years of continued bullshittery. I’m going to rewatch season one of Oil Change tonight to remind myself of that. Oilers win 4-3 because honestly I don’t even know anymore.
God help me, Blue. You’re my boy.