That’s what I’m calling it; The Big F.U.2. It doesn’t take a cryptologist to break that code, so I’ll spare you all the full version, because if you can’t figure it out, you shouldn’t know it.
I’m beyond picking sides, at least between the two obvious combatants, instead, I’m siding with the fans, you know, the only ones among this cluster up that actually matter, even though they are the least considered, respected or appreciated.
This isn’t a blog post to vent my spleen, because, frankly it’s been well and vented, and I saw no need to do so here on these pages. No, this is really about making a public statement that the NHL, and its players, have bankrupted my love of the game.
The passion was trampled, then the remaining spark pissed on, and the cold ashes unceremoniously flushed down the toilet.
There’s nothing left but a stained bowl.
Good for you boys, one of you will be the proud winner of nothing.