This fucking team.
Less than 24 hours after getting a touchdown dropped on us by the Carolina goddamn Hurricanes at home, and less than 48 hours after being embarrassed by our biggest rivals who also painfully happen to be the second best team in the entire fucking league, the Oilers “Entertainment” Group shifted practice by an hour to make room for what the team called a “media availability.”
Naturally, the long-time suffering fan base – including yours goddamn truly – got their hopes up. This, despite years of basically a Ph.D. education in Why We Should Never Get Our Hopes Up when it comes to anything this despicably putrid franchise ever does. But for some reason, I still believed. I believed that after this nightmare of a weekend that the ignorant pricks running this shit circus had finally woke up and realized what an unequivocal fucking disaster they’ve intentionally created. For some psychotic reason, I actually thought they were going to announce that bald-headed dweeb of an imbecile was finally being told to take his Harvard education and pack his shit.
Alas. This was the press conference:
It was our coach talking about stuff and things.
I should have known. I think a part of me knew. Any time I get my hopes even moderately up, a gigantic elephant by the name of “fate” takes a 250-pound shit on my life. It’s the never-ending time continuum cycle that comes with being a fan of the Oilers, the Raptors, the Colts, and the Braves, mostly the Oilers. I have no idea why I still do this to myself other than maybe I enjoy the pain. Maybe I’m a sadistic sucker for torment. I don’t know. I guess I deserve it, though. The team is 331-409-95 since Daryl Katz bought the franchise. That’s 173 more losses than wins, over two full seasons of losses that have accumulated due to a byproduct of incompetent organizational management that perpetually panders to the lowest common denominator.
And yet, here we are. We’re still here. We’re still talking about the team. We’re still selling out Daryl’s publicly-funded palace. Last night I had free tickets (I won’t pay) to go to the game, and like a suffering orca from fucking SeaWorld, I went to the game. It was 3-0 for the Hurricanes before most people finished standing in the abhorrent concession lines. Our first shot came 10 minutes into the game, an accomplishment that was promptly celebrated by a boisterous Bronx cheer by the suffering faithful. In the third period, I tried to muster a “Fire Peter” chant, to no avail. The crowd that remained was dead by then, left on the road to rot in the arctic temperatures on Edmonton by this grossly incapable organization. We’re a fragment of what the crowds were once like in the old barn. An entire generation of Oilers fans are growing up watching this nuclear fire dumpster take place, and the only knowledge they’ll have of that thunderous energy that Oilers fans once produced will be from stories passed down by their elders. What the actual fuck?
Speaking of what the fuck, today we did things that will surely be laughed at by basically everyone outside of the people in charge of this repulsively nightmarish catastrophe:
Today, we placed Ty Rattie (the guy that was supposed to fill the winger void on Connor’s McWing, a void intentionally created by the still-employed GM) and Ryan Spooner (the guy we essentially traded Jordan Eberle for) on waivers. For those keeping score at home:
We need to fire Peter before he gives Nothing a seven year deal with a NMC. He successfully managed to turn 201 career goals and 0.73 career points per game into nothing. The evidence was there for us to observe, think about, and then not take action when he turned Tyler Seguin’s 0.86 points per game and Blake Wheeler’s 0.81 points per game into nothing for Boston. There was literally an already in-place script telling us not to hire this buffoon and yet we still did it. This is the hell we’ve created. We’re 137-132-26 since drafting Connor McDavid. A generational asset joining a team that already had assets like Taylor Hall, Leon Draisaitl, Jordan Eberle, Ryan Nugent-Hopkins, Oscar Klefbom and Darnell Nurse in place and we’ve still lost more games than we’ve won. We fired an entire coaching staff, we’ve recycled dozens of players, we’ve acquired every 6/7 defenseman in the league, and we’re still getting scoreboard bullied at home by the 10th best team in the Eastern Conference. Jordan Eberle – a man we once thought was a pillar of hope for a franchise already desperate for success – has now been traded for nothing. Peter has done the impossible and made me miss Ryan Strome.
I’m at a complete loss for words. I will still boycott writing game day and morning after blogs about this team I still somehow love until a change is made in management. For God’s sake, just fire the incompetent asshole and make Keith Gretzky the interim head coach until a reasonably adequately comprehensive managerial search is conducted. This is the one time where I’ll actually endorse the franchise doing the nepotism. We’ve never done that, as far as I’m aware. We’ve just piggy-backed off former players and people with Hockey Canada ties who name burgers after themselves repetitively save for that one time where Steve Tambellini was hired out of nowhere. I kind of miss Tambo. I think even he could have built a competitive team around Connor McDavid because he just would have done nothing and we’d undoubtedly be in a far better position than having half of our cap space tied donated to a plethora of lacklustrely ineffective players and making trades that warrant a criminal sporting offense. I miss writing those blogs. I miss it so much.
One more time:
Daryl Katz. Oil Change. First episode. Nine years ago. Impossible not to cringe at the end of this clip. pic.twitter.com/bOlPbfmSJj— Shanny (@shannyens) December 30, 2018