Talking About A Season In Ernest

By Adam W Parks

Wednesday, January 27, 2009 Red Wings 2 @ Wild 5

America's finest novelist would sympathize with the season that America's finest hockey franchise is having. All of Ernest Hemingway's great characters all had great conflicts, and the Wings have faced nothing but thus far this season.

The Sun Also Rises, Even In Detroit

In Hemingway's most definitive and epochal novel, the surly and slightly depressed Harvey Stone (who is lost in his own generation) looks the naive Robert Cohn right in the eye and makes this blunt assessment: "You're not a moron. You're only a case of arrested development."

Sitting at a buddy's house watching the game on Wednesday I muttered in utter disgust, "What the @#$% is going on?" He replied, "We suck."

In regards to the turd the Wings left in Minnesota, you were absolutely right Pat. After their sixth loss in seven games, perhaps it is a proper summation of the last couple of weeks. However, I am not ready to admit that this team, in this season with all the obstacles, sucks.

The Pistons suck this year and have ever since they traded away Chauncey Billups. The Tigers sucked after blowing their lead in the Central Division last fall. The Wolverines and Spartans both sucked on the football field in 2009. And the Lions are the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever sucked.

(Sorry, but I could not decide which photo best represented how much the Lions suck, so I used them both.) Due to redundant reasons, the Wings have lacked a certain chemistry all season long. Now they lack confidence. They cannot seem to match their opponents' intensity and determination through 60 minutes of play. That said, we have not yet seen what this team, complete with all of its pieces clicking and working together, can do. Could it be time to wonder if we ever will this season?

I like to think that the Wings have something in common with Robert Cohn. We, or at least I, expected to see somewhat similar successes from previous seasons despite all the changes and new faces. Instead we have witnessed the Wings' growth and development as a team get stunted to the point where they lack any identity that resembles what has become accustomed.

They skate around the NHL in the same red and white with the same formidable Winged Wheel, but opposing teams are not intimidated like they used to be. Their mystique has been reduced to that of a crappy magician. The Phoenix Coyotes can look up at the scoreboard hanging at center ice in Joe Louis Arena, read Coyotes 2 RED WINGS 4 late in the third period, and know they still have good odds to come back and get a point, if not a win.

A less intrepid Wings fan than myself might panic and get pissed off when Detroit loses after blowing a two goal lead, or when they have a 1-3-3 record over the last seven games, but I am practicing the same patience that I have consistently expressed all season long. Chalk it up as a case of arrested development. Confidence can come and go, ebb and flow. The Wings might just be trapped in an eddy right now. Sometimes you have to paddle backwards in order to go forwards, hit rock bottom before making an ascension, like the old man and the...

What Was I Thinking?

Normally I can write myself into a more optimistic outlook. It's not working right now. As I watched the Wild dismantle Detroit's defense and make Chris Osgood look like he was no good, I thought to myself, I picked a Helluva season to start writing a Red Wings blog.

In my years of watching the Wings I have never witnessed something quite like this. Sure I have seen plenty of let downs, disappointments, and early playoff exits, but I honestly cannot recall a time when I looked at the NHL standings in January and did not see the Wings in a secure playoff position. This is ludicrous! Absurd! Who can I blame for this?

I was too young to remember the poor teams of the early and mid 1980s. I never watched the fresh-faced Steve Yzerman when he was an offensive juggernaut, pushing Wayne Gretzky and Mario Lemieux for scoring titles and Hart Trophies. I watched him mold into a Selke Award winner and rightfully earn his eponymous nickname: The Captain.

I don't personally remember names like Harry Neale, John Ogrodnick, and Kelly Kisio. I know Dave Lewis as an assistant coach and the unsuccessful successor to Scotty Bowman, but not as a player. I have little to no recollection of the Wings prior to Nicklas Lidstrom or Sergei Fedorov or Tim Cheveldae. I did not live through 42 years of Stanley Cup drought, only 17.

I HAVE NEVER EVER WATCHED A RED WINGS SEASON WHERE THEY MISSED THE PLAYOFFS.

That is it. I am a spoiled brat of a fan. I admit it. Now I feel a little better.

This season has been a test, as a writer and as a fan from a younger generation. Year in and year out since the mid 1990s my expectations for this team have been Stanley Cup or bust. With more busts than Cups, the Wings have always at least made an argument for themselves, always been a menace for the rest of the league.

So, here is my conclusion about the timing of the blog: this is a great time to start writing about the Wings. It's like when they were swept in the Finals by New Jersey in 1995 and then upset by the incorrigible Avalanche in '96 before finally reaching the promised land in 97. By suffering through these tough times I will appreciate the upcoming good times even more, and my writing will reflect that. After all, what would Hemingway have ever written without experiencing his own conflict?

Peace.