(Editor’s note: For those unfamiliar with today’s guest blogger, this qualifies as a positive, upbeat, glass-half-full essay given the lack of the use of terms such as “amateur hour,” “clowns” and “dogs’ breakfast.” And, well, he tends to favor a certain player. Also, he’s a tad unusual.)
“It’s all about THE, gentlemen. The rest is conversation.”
By Paulo Molina, aka “Miami Pimp”
Well, I appreciate the opportunity Mr. CARP’s given me, as the single biggest contributor to Rangers Report, to have my say. Well, ladies and gentlemen, we’re not here to indulge in fantasy but in regular-season and postseason reality. The New York Rangers, the New York Rangers continue to be a second-rate power. Its skill deficit and its onions deficit are at nightmare proportions.
Now, in the days of the Original Six when our team was a top league power, there was accountability to the ticketholder. The Rickards, the Hammonds, the men who built this franchise, made sure of it because it was their reputation at stake. Today, management has no such stake in the team! All together, the man sitting up there in his glass suite owns almost 70 percent of the franchise. But where do Mr. Dolan and cigar-chewing sidekick put their multi-million-dollar pocketbook? Not in improving the team; their level of care is at less than one percent. YOU live or die with the team. That’s right, you, the fan. And you are all being royally screwed over by these, these bureaucrats, with their luncheons, their hunting and fishing trips in Alberta, their corporate jets and their gifting of golden parachutes to bush-league talent.
The New York Rangers, folks, the New York Rangers have 15 different players each earning over one million dollars a year. Now, I spent the past nine months analyzing what all these guys do, and I still can’t figure it out. One thing I do know is that our team did not win the Stanley Cup, and I’ll bet that if you went back and reviewed tape, half the postseason was spent in the defensive zone with the puck going back and forth between this cluster of court jesters. The new law of evolution in the Rangers seems to be survival of the unfittest. Well, in my book you either do it right or you get eliminated.
And eliminated you will be year after year unless you invest in liquid talent. Last season, there was only one player who actually showed himself worthy of a paycheck and who provided a silver lining for our squad. A player who, after audaciously starting the season in Hartford, rose to first-line duties and fought off injuries to single-handedly lead our amateur-hour circus act to within a hair of Lord Stanley. He battled in 15 playoff games in which he scored a total of 13 points. But more than score, he backed off defenses with his unparalleled speed and unmatched tenacity. This may have resulted in run-ins with lesser goalies. But he is not a destroyer of teams. He is a liberator of them!
He is THE Kreider. And the point is, ladies and gentleman, that THE Kreider, for lack of a better nickname, is good. THE Kreider is right, THE Kreider works. THE Kreider clarifies, cuts through, and captures the essence of the winning spirit. THE Kreider, in all of his forms; THE Kreider for goals, for assists, for forechecking, is a beacon for talent and the upward surge of hockey promise. And THE Kreider, you mark my words, will not only save the New York Rangers, but that other malfunctioning corporation called the National Hockey League. Thank you very much.
From the capital of over-priced housing and under-handed politicians … this is Miami Pimp, over and out.
Photo of the jersey by Paulo Molina.
Photo of Chris (THE) Kreider by Getty Images.