We only know one half of the participants in the Stanley Cup Final, which will start Monday (and starting it on a holiday seems a bit weird to me but at this point I’m beyond studying it too hard). The NHL only needs to know half though, because they can once again, finally, put the most deserving player in the position of face of the league.
It is time for the hockey world to come to terms with PK Subban.
The Senators took a 1-0 lead over what looked to be a very tired Penguins team, and one that was already beat up, and all anyone could talk about was how boring the Senators are. Apparently most everyone hadn’t watched the Sens all year or in the first two rounds, and I can’t really blame you if you didn’t because the Bruins and Rangers hardly move the interest needle either. This is what Guy Boucher does. Maybe you didn’t pay attention to what he did in Tampa, and again I don’t blame you if you didn’t because it really wasn’t worth your time.
But Guy Boucher, and the Senators as a whole, don’t owe you anything.
We’re in the business end now. The part where all four teams can have legitimate fantasies about parades in a month’s time. They’re halfway there, much like Mark Lanegan, and now all they need to do is repeat what they’ve already done. Let’s run it through.
Nashville v. Anaheim (Game One Tonight)
I really have no idea what to make of the Ducks at all. They swept a team that had the next best blue line to Nashville’s in Calgary, though a lot of that was due to Calgary’s own idiocy. In the underlying numbers, the Flames pretty much kicked the Ducks from pillar to post but watched their goaltending and discipline fail them.
On the surface then, it really shouldn’t have been all that hard against the Oilers, who has no blue line to speak of and even that was decimated in the last two games with Sekera not playing either and Klefbom missing one. And yet that took to a Game 7, and really would have been over sooner had the Ducks not thrown the biggest hail mary we’ve seen in a long time and Talbot finally succumbing to the workload he’d been given all season. Oh, and a little goalie interference didn’t hurt either.
Here in Chicago, we usually don’t get much of a spring. Even with the temperate/weak-ass winter we had this time around, the April-May stretch bounces between glimpses of actual summer and then visions of November. Usually in this place it’s just cool and gray until somewhere around Memorial Day, and then the next day is gorgeous and it’s summer/construction. We don’t slowly ramp up to summer. It just arrives like Monty Python’s foot.
So rites of spring, we don’t really recognize them. We see leaves on trees but are suspicious. Our allergies kick up at various times, so it’s not much of an indicator either. We have to make up our own. The ivy showing up on the outfield wall at Wrigley. Streetfests and outdoor music festivals start releasing their schedules and tickets go on sale. Sadly, shootings go up, if it’s even possible at this point.
And oh yeah, the St. Louis Blues reveal that nothing has changed, and they’re still a collection of dumbasses trying to play a game the sport has long ago left behind.
You can see just how weird hockey is with the two narratives going around right now. Let’s follow them.
This weekend, one team came out of the gate roaring in a playoff game. They first 16 shots at the opposing goalie, and only give up five. But the opposing goalie has an answer for everything, and then their own goalie suddenly forgets how his limbs work for just one period. Suddenly, they’re in crisis.
Another team comes out roaring, also at home. They outshoot their opponent 29-14 in the first 40 minutes of their game. And while the opposing goalie was good, they found a way to get one goal in their period of pure dominance, and that’s the difference.
And coming out of those games, the Capitals are doing it all again and are an utter mess, whereas the Predators are sitting in the proverbial catbird seat. And really, the only difference between the two was that Cody McLeod was able to corral a puck in the air and a bounce off the outside of the net, and the Capitals got no such bounce.
As much as it’s been built up, even by just me, certainly the first round of Caps-Penguins didn’t disappoint. It was just about as fast as you could hope, close, with the biggest names stepping to the fore. And yes, I mean Nick Bonino, of course.
In truth, the Caps were pretty much all over the Penguins for most of the game, kicking them around in shots and possession, the latter to the tune of a 65% adjusted Corsi-share. The Caps can get push from all three pairings from Carlson, ShattenKevin, Orlov, and even Schmidt. The Pens aren’t short of go even without Letang with Hainsey, Schultz, and Daley but it’s just not the quality of what Washington is rolling. And you don’t want to be in a place where you really have to depend on Schultz and Daley, however good they’ve looked in black and gold.
It won’t for most Hawks fans, as we know that the majority of the fanbase heads over to Wrigley once the Hawks are done (and a few lost and desperate souls head to Comiskey, which they should because the food and beer is so much better), but the NHL playoffs do continue once they’re out of it. And they kick off tomorrow night in the West, before we get to what will be the main event on Thursday in the East. And we don’t have much else to do, so let’s preview both series.
This is probably too distasteful for most Hawks fans, but I don’t really have any bile for the Predators. I think you all know how I feel about the Blues. Luckily, I think the latter is up against it.
vs. 
Predators lead 3-0
PUCK DROP: 7pm Central
TV: CSN, NBCSN, Sportsnet up Nort’
THOSE IN THE BLACK MASK: On The Forecheck
All right, if I’m going to carry this wrestling analogy out to its natural conclusion, let’s do that. Those were Undertaker’s final words to Roman Reigns before he was hit with one last spear to end his career. But then, I’ve called the Hawks Roman Reigns because everyone hates them and they usually find a way to hang around longer than anyone wants. And if you have no idea what I’m talking about this is extremely confusing, and you probably think I’m a total loser. And you’d be right! Just fucking go with it, ok?
When I look back on it, I guess my predictions on this series, and the ones I assumed would follow, were based on hope more than I realized. I hoped Duncan Keith was merely pacing himself for what mattered. I hoped that Toews’s midseason scoring binged signaled he had not been infected by the Kopitar gremlins. I hoped that Quenneville would realize what he had in Oduya and TVR, and more importantly what he didn’t have, and would adjust accordingly. And I hoped that the weight of all Corey Crawford had to carry at least in the first half of the season wouldn’t be too much to leave him incapable of more miracles now. Of all those, he got the closest.
While there will be a lot of ink spilled tomorrow about “grit,” “want to,” “determination,” and whatever other bullshit we’ve built our career in dispelling, the answer is more simple than that. It’s speed. The Preds can trap, or they can forecheck, they can collapse, but whatever they do they can do it so much faster than the Hawks. When the Hawks simply mishandle a pass, or take an extra beat to get it under control, there’s a Pred there. When they do manage to get it deep, the mobile Preds defense is there. When the Hawks think they have a passing lane, it’s filled faster than they can compute.
Ok. Guess we’re going to have to drop the Kesha songs as titles. Shame, I was really enjoying it.
It’s important to make the difference clear between concern and panic. Concern is completely warranted, as losing the first two games at home and not scoring a goal in the process certainly is a new trick for the Hawks and ups the degree of difficulty to a level that will surely impress the Ukrainian judge. A lot of concern is fine, too. Watching the Hawks come up with a stale beer fart in a spot we’re used to seeing them respond is jarring.
But panic? C’mon. The Hawks lost their first two home games last year too, and pushed that to a Game 7 that they lost by the width of two posts. Sure, that series being a loss isn’t exactly something you’d draw inspiration from. And in their comebacks in the past, they rarely had to start them on the road. So again, a new trick. But it’s not like the Preds have picked some secret underbelly here. So let’s try and clean it up and see what’s what.
