Sometime shortly after the Red Wings traded for Marian Hossa, my brother and I, both sons of Detroit, started talking about the team's chances to repeat. We both had the same idea, though he vocalized it first, "Hossa is the purest goal scorer the Wings have had since;" and I finished his sentence, "Sergei Fedorov. A young Sergei Fedorov." He was, too. Hossa had the kind of raw talent and moxie that only comes along once in a long while. He's not the kind of stable, consistent leader that Steve Yzerman was or the unstoppable force of Eric Lindros in his prime. No, Hossa was, and still is, a game changer. The player that always has to be accounted for, much like the last player of that ilk to wear the Winged Wheel, Fedorov.
It's somewhat ironic then, that as the Red Wings playoff drive swung into full gear, Hossa disappeared. Just like Fedorov used to. His speed seemed inconsequential. He made poor decisions. He rarely scored (and only in games that were mostly decided without his contributions). Hossa went from being, arguably, the most important player on the Red Wings, to a spectre of what could've been. He was the crux of the team; Hossa was the power and speed that any NHL team would die for on their second line. But with Hossa being relegated to the world of nondescript NHL forwards, he became as much a hindrance as a help: It's difficult to win when your success is based largely on the team's depth, and the depth suddenly disappears.
For Detroit fans, this was a feeling we had experienced all too often. Fedorov, while known as a great playoff performer in his early years, began to disappear in the playoffs (Pavel Datsyuk did so a few years ago as well). Old timers like Don Cherry will likely blame these players' respective disappearances on their European heritage and style of play. And maybe there's some truth to that. But that's too easy. It's too biased. Maybe it's the weight of expectations or the role that the Red Wings designate for such players. In any case, it's happened before and will likely happen again.
I went to get my oil changed yesterday at a drive-in repair shop. I was sitting there when one of the workers came walked by and commented on the hockey sticks in the back seat of my car. We got on talking about hockey and came to the realization that he's a Penguins fan and I'm a Red Wings fan. We joked for a few minutes before he said, "You know what makes it really great though? Marian Hossa." And I guess I understand that sentiment. Hossa, in a particularly brash move, more or less made a prediction about the season. He called his shot. He missed.
It's somewhat ironic then, that as the Red Wings playoff drive swung into full gear, Hossa disappeared. Just like Fedorov used to. His speed seemed inconsequential. He made poor decisions. He rarely scored (and only in games that were mostly decided without his contributions). Hossa went from being, arguably, the most important player on the Red Wings, to a spectre of what could've been. He was the crux of the team; Hossa was the power and speed that any NHL team would die for on their second line. But with Hossa being relegated to the world of nondescript NHL forwards, he became as much a hindrance as a help: It's difficult to win when your success is based largely on the team's depth, and the depth suddenly disappears.
For Detroit fans, this was a feeling we had experienced all too often. Fedorov, while known as a great playoff performer in his early years, began to disappear in the playoffs (Pavel Datsyuk did so a few years ago as well). Old timers like Don Cherry will likely blame these players' respective disappearances on their European heritage and style of play. And maybe there's some truth to that. But that's too easy. It's too biased. Maybe it's the weight of expectations or the role that the Red Wings designate for such players. In any case, it's happened before and will likely happen again.
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I went to get my oil changed yesterday at a drive-in repair shop. I was sitting there when one of the workers came walked by and commented on the hockey sticks in the back seat of my car. We got on talking about hockey and came to the realization that he's a Penguins fan and I'm a Red Wings fan. We joked for a few minutes before he said, "You know what makes it really great though? Marian Hossa." And I guess I understand that sentiment. Hossa, in a particularly brash move, more or less made a prediction about the season. He called his shot. He missed.
I try to understand the sentiment of Penguins fans. They felt slighted and angry. Someone had openly and publicly condemned their team, promptly left said team, and then lost sports' ultimate prize at the end of the season to the same group of guys he had left; It was a moral victory for Penguins fans. I understand the hatred. Sort of.
Except that Hossa did exactly what we hope all of our sports heroes will do. He was playing to win, regardless of the money. In a league like the NHL where your career can be ended with a errant puck or unfortunate, crippling check, Hossa risked his career for a team that he thought would win it all. How many times do athletes leave behind heaploads of cash, this early in their career, for a chance to win it all? Hossa, for all intents and purposes--his one, "The Wings have a better chance of winning than the Penguins" comment aside--is a stand-up guy. His only crime, really, was leaving a team just before their collective peak for a team that was already there. It was a bad move in retrospect.
Hossa will go down as one of the biggest dunces in the NHL history for hedging his bets and trying to win, especially if the Wings return to the top of the NHL this year or the promise the Blackhawks have shown never affords any tangible results. And he may consequently never get a chance to lift Lord Stanley's Cup. Pittsburgh may hate him. I can only sympathize.
1 comments:
Awesome.
"Except that Hossa did exactly what we hope all of our sports heroes will do. He was playing to win, regardless of the money. In a league like the NHL where your career can be ended with a errant puck or unfortunate, crippling check, Hossa risked his career for a team that he thought would win it all. How many times do athletes leave behind heaploads of cash, this early in their career, for a chance to win it all? Hossa, for all intents and purposes--his one, "The Wings have a better chance of winning than the Penguins" comment aside--is a stand-up guy. His only crime, really, was leaving a team just before their collective peak for a team that was already there. It was a bad move in retrospect."
I too sympathize
-Dave B
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