Thursday, March 27, 2008

PITCHFORK VS. SABRE: ANSWERED

Since there were some doubts, I figured I would put them to rest: Any Tiger that lives through winter in Western New York kicks the shit out of the Prince of Darkness, every day of the week. Especially when said Tiger has two sabers. Sorry Devils fans, but you've no longer a mascot; the inflammatory statements of one of your own convinced Sabretooth to kick some ass.

While "fun" is subjective, the protestation that the "this team is more fun to watch than previous incarnations" rings false when the statistics (which never lie) prove that they are scoring at a level unparalleled since 2001/2002. The Devils are averaging (through today) 2.51 goals-per-game. The last time they scored less than 2.6 GPG? 2001-2002 (2.50 gpg). Those halcyon days of exciting, high-scoring hockey in the League that Gary Ruined. The Sabres are averaging 3.13 GPG (which, I wholly admit means about 1/4 of their games were 6 goal nights, half were 3 goal nights and 1/4 they were shutout). And there's the crutch of it. The Sabres are like one of our lovely "Don't You Hate Pants" stars. Wait, it's actually worse: the Sabres are like having an alcoholic stripper girlfriend and the Devils are like being married to a wholesome Nebraska girl. There's no problem with Nebraska. She's undoubtedly cute, but not groin-grabbingly hot. You know that she'll be around come May (and next the May and next the May, ad infinitum). You know that she'll take care of you and she'll feed you and you'll live out your days in comfort.

The Sabres: Well you never know when you get home from work if she's going to be sitting naked on the kitchen floor with her legs spread or if she's going to launch an empty bottle of Jameson at your head. She'll give you the best night of your life, but two days later you'll catch her with your best friend (and his coworker, Bruce). You can't plan two days ahead and you sure as fuck have no idea if she'll be around in May (probably not, but who can tell?). When its good, holy shit it's good, then one night Miller comes out an "look[s] like a shell-shocked turtle without protection"[deadspin] and they give up 5 unexplained in the final 6 minutes. Yet, despite yourself, you have no control over the fact that you're absolutely drawn to this complete lack of stability. The downs suck ass, but you never know when they'll just explode and take you into the bathroom at Tim Horton's for a little afternoon delight.

Are the Devils "boring?" No, not really. The league has changed in the past few years and the Devils can't play the trap like they used to, but they still rely heavily on Marty to keep them in all games so their offense can put up less-than-average numbers and they'll still be there for the second and third rounds. I don't dislike the Devils and I guess being married to a traditional farm-girl is nice, in a secure kinda way.

2 comments:

Jeff K said...

A couple of things:

1) There is no tiger that can live through a Western New York winter. Plus, they don't live there to begin with: tigers aren't stupid.
2) How very Bettmanesque of you to equate "goal scoring" with "excitement". Have you seen some of the saves Marty has made? And if the Sabres have 3.13 GPG and Miller has a 2.64 GAA, doesn't that mean they should have won every game by a score of 6-5? The numbers have been crunched and I still don't get it.
3) Bruce, that asshole! I knew he was fucking the Sabres!
4) I love the phrase "groin-grabbingly hot". I'm using that one (with your permission).

Kris said...

I think the Buffalo zoo had an actual tiger at one point, but I'm fairly sure it died from a heart attack due to excessive chicken wing consumption.

I'm talking out my ass about "fun" and "boring" re: the Devils. I've seen them play a total of one game this year and the entire incident was not that much fun; although the game was pretty good (despite the fucking skills competition), getting mugged in Newark was less so (I'm not sure I remember the events 100% accurately; alcohol consumption may lead to hazy recollections of reality).

I'm sure I stole "groin-grabbingly hot" from somewhere, but you're more than welcome to it.