Hockey is supposed to be a game. An escape from the reality of your life; a joy and a past-time that you choose to embrace because you want to, not because you have to.
If you watched ten minutes of a hockey-broadcast intermission, you'd be forgiven for forgetting this - nothing says joy like watching two old-white guys scream at each other about the minutia of fourth-line deployment.
It is quite obvious that the people responsible for broadcasting hockey have forgotten about fun, but who can blame them in the age of brain-damaged former enforcers, bi-annual lockouts and multi-millionaires?
Kids can't afford to play the game they love, the league is saturated with advertising and anything good gets over-hyped beyond imagining; not to mention that with child-poverty approaching 15% across the continent and income disparity becoming an increasingly pressing concern, millionaire athletes become more and more disconnected and foreign to the fans by the day.
And no one sums this up or symbolizes this phenomenon better than Phil Kessel of the Toronto Maple Leafs. Like an angry hobbit who just learned that Gandalf needs yet another favor, Keesel peers out of his helmet - chubby, unshaved and miserable. It's a look that best says "funeral at a hockey game."
How a guy who makes more money in a week than I will likely make in the next three years can look so frigging miserable is beyond me. It's as if his pre-game ritual is to watch Schindler List and listen to three albums by the Cure.
Like, I get his team is awful. I understand that the media is unrelenting and won't leave him alone. I can at least emphasize - if not fully understand - the pressure that he must be under.
I even liked it when he called the Toronto Star's Dave Feschuk an "idiot." Not because I have anything against Feschuk, but because I enjoy spectacle and I enjoy watching guys speak their mind: any break from the white-washed cookie-cutter politically-correct BS that the corporate world of sports, entertainment, celebrities and news can offer me is a treat I enjoy most exceedingly.
But when you break it down, it's kind of sad: I know people who can't afford the medication that would make them better. I know people who drive dangerous vehicles far distances, who go to food banks, who have given up on responsible government or the idea that we might live in anything approaching a real democracy.
But Phil Kessel will make something like ten million dollars this year and he looks miserable. He can't handle a little criticism from a guy who's actual job is to criticize Phil Kessel and who makes in a whole year something approaching what Kessel makes in two games or 120 minutes worth of work.
Now, don't get me wrong here: being a professional athlete is one of the only ways a regular guy can become wealthy, and supply and demand dictate his salary, so I have no problem with it. I would rather the money I spend to watch hockey go to the Phil Kessel's of the world and not fat-cats who inherited so much money they could spend a fortune on a hockey team all but guaranteed to lose money.
All I am saying is this: Does Phil Kessel have to look so frigging miserable all the time? Hell, even if you lose another ten games in a row, maybe you should realize that no one you know is ever going to go hungry, that you can honestly help people more than a normal person could ever dream of, that you can quite literally buy yourself anything you want - that you have accomplished more at 27 than most people ever will?
Look, I don't pretend to know the guy. Maybe it's not Toronto or the media. Maybe he has real personal problems I don't know about. If that's the case, then sorry. But I suspect his miserable persona comes from two things: the pressure of playing in Toronto where even a prime Gretzky wouldn't be able to live up to the expectations, and constant jokes about KFC.
(Seriously, I don't know if it was photo-shopped or real but last week I must have been Tweeted a picture of Kessel in line at a Harvey's (Canadian Fast Food, don't know if they have that in USA) 100 times.
So here's the solution: Come live in the desert.
Phil won't even be recognized on the street - he can go to any fast-food place he wants in total anonymity. He won't have to worry about feuding with the media unless he makes the high-school basketball team, and if his real problem is Seasonal Effective Disorder, then the bright sun of the desert will be great for him. He can shave, get a tan, buy a cactus, adopt a Coyote and - as Doan can probably tell him - it barely matters if you win or not.
Yes, Phil Kessel and the Arizona Coyotes are a perfect fit.
Phil can gain some perspective on life. The Coyotes can get a player they can market, a player that scores goals and will sell tickets. It's the best fit since Milli met Vanilli.
There's two ways the teams could go with this: Total Blockbuster and Futures
In the Total Blockbuster the Leafs would send Phil Kessel to the Coyotes in exchange for Keith Yandle and a conditional first-rounder, based on the Leafs' ability to sign Yandle to an extension beyond next year.
In the Future scenario, the Leafs would send Phil Kessel to the Coyotes in exchange for Max Domi, Michael Stone and 2016 first rounder.
In either situation, the real winner is the fans: If one of the best, richest, most successful players can play the game without looking like Kanye just gave away his Grammy, I think everyone will be better able to enjoy the game.
And to the teams of the NHL isn't it obvious that FUN is the missing ingredient in your quest for glory? What good is it if you make a bazillion bucks and you can't wear a jogging suit to a team meeting? Give. Me. A. Break.
You don't need emotional speeches from a coach in the pre-game: you need a giant TV broadcasting music videos from the early 90s. How can you not go out on the ice with a smile on your face if watching this was your pre-game routine?
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The Coyotes won last night in a shoot-out over the Blackhawks. Because the Oilers also won, they missed out on a great chance to move down in the standings. They will get another crack at it tonight when they play the St.Louis Blues.