Greetings from Smashville! Season 13, Week 17

Halfway Between The Gutter And The Stars

Week seventeen saw Predsnation go from a humilating low to the kind of highs that come from a pair of rousing wins and dominating the buzz of the moment in two arenas of popular public discourse.  So, let's take a look at  Week 17...

The Revenge of Junkyard Jones
Edmonton at Nashville February 7th, 2011

After the tough fight that ended with a triumphant win over long-time division rivals Detroit, it seemed to many that winning over Edmonton, who were (and I think still are) last in the division would be easy.  However, it was almost as if Edmonton knew only too well that Nashville was likely to fall back on one of the worst habits the Predators have had over the years.

They have a tendency to play down or up to whoever they are facing on the ice. When they're playing Chicago or Detroit or any other big-shouldered upper tier team, they're unstoppable. Put them against a team with considerably less juice, like, say, Edmonton or Ottawa and they phone it in.  Sometimes it works and they win just by dint of having as much talent as the Predators have.

Other nights? 

Someone knew that particular Predators' weak spot and took advantage of it.  This isn't placing blame so much as it's  recognising the possibility that former Big Cat, Ryan Jones, would have the idea that the Predators would be in Bellsouth Mode when the puck dropped at Bridgestone that Monday night. If so, it was excellent gamesmanship on his and his teammates' part.  They deserved the win, they deserved the shutout and they deserved the buzz that comes from seeing the clock run out when you're miles ahead of the competition.

The shock and indignation that seemed to pervade every corner of the sports conversational landscape was not borne of people who had given up on their team. Not by a long shot. This was the outrage of the disappointed optimist, this is the frustration of the fan who knows what good the boys at 501 are capable of bringing to the ice. They want to see the fire that makes the Predators who they are reignited.  As trite as it may sound, the only term I can think of that fits is "Tough Love".  The Predators received it both inside and out of the organisation this week.

Detroit, Rocked City
Nashville at Detroit February 9th, 2011

Games at The Joe are always tough.  The ice is rough, the fans are rabid and the Red Wings...

Even in an off year a bad day for Detroit is still usually better than a decent day for two-thirds of the rest of the NHL. Teams that regularly play against Detroit know they're facing a tough team with a ferocious offense and an almost inpenetrable defense. Their trademark ability to isolate and screen the opposition's goaltenders has sometimes been the thing that keeps them alive when everything else is just a touch out of sync. 

Well, that and the sometimes undersung talent between the pipes...  Chris Osgood seems to be their wall when he's playing and their rock in the locker room.  From anecdotal observation, his voice is the one that not only guides but encourages his teammates and he's sometimes the first to offer a kind word to the losing pipesguy. Yeah, I like him.  Get over it.  I also like the goaltender they chose to be Osgood's partner and netmate. He has as much talent and exhibits the same qualities that make Osgood such a pleasure to watch.  When the Predators were looking for a second goaltender this summer, it was my hope that they would find the kind of hand in glove match that Jimmy Howard has proven to be for Ozzie.  Lucky for Nashville, That Lindback Moppet is exactly what everyone was hoping for.

But I digress, it was Jimmy Howard  versus Pekka Rinne that night. The Great Wall of Finland and his retinue of stalwarts, The Gelfling, The First Gen and The Cannon, among others kept the fight going and eventually prevailed, leaving the Wings winded and floundering with the score at four to one in favour of Nashville.

You Say Goodbye, While I Say Hello...Hello! Hello!
Colorado at Nashville February 12th, 2011

The shank end of the week was the source of a lot of mixed feelings for Predsnation.  While the organisation was all about creating as much buzz as possible concerning the acquisition of Ottawa forward Mike Fisher, the sports and entertainment media were all over the fact that Mrs. Fisher is country music recording artist Carrie Underwood. In both arenas, the connection to Underwood almost oveshadowed the transition that took place at BeeStone. Steeply discounted tickets filled a barn that might have seen robust attnedance but not a sellout against the O'Reilly Brother-free matchup.  When a generic blonde country music singer stepped forward to sing the national anthem instead of Ms Underwood, the disappointment was palpable.


The game, however, was another story.  Where Colorado managed to finesse a trio of wristers around Pekka Rinne, the five goals that put Nashville in the winner's spotlight were all muscled in. Some analysts might even argue that they were darned ugly.  Personally, I loved seeing the Predators playing with that much aggression. 

The promotional poobahs may have wanted Saturday to be The Mike Fisher Show, but the night belonged to David Legwand, Martin Erat and Patric Hornqvist, with excellent turns by Shea Weber and Cody Franson.   Legwand kept the right people company all night long, fighting his way to the most dangerous part of the ice by any and all means possible.  Pat the Bear was unleashed, doing everything he could to put himself and the puck behind Colorado's Budaj at every opportunity. Erat was the Czech Menace. Nearly every time something good happened, he was a part of it.  Everyone named managed to get netters and assists and Nashville got the win.

What almost slipped past the attention of many during those heady crazy days was who was back and what would happen when he got there..  Peter Forsberg.  Foppa.  That name brings back memories of the team that might have been if The Fire Sale hadn't happened. Like the Good Boyfriend That Got Away, he is named whenever people speak fondly of departed denizens of Nashville's roster. News of his return to the NHL was almost overshadowed by the showbiz glitz but he made his presence known on the ice, often outskating and outplaying people who were almost young enough to be his kids.

Those of us who are old enough to remember, those of us where were there when he wore Nashville's sweater remember and from that part of Predsnation there was fond respect that was borne out of loyalty along with the usual high-spirited trash talk that goes on at The 'Stone.

This was to be Forsberg's last NHL game, (unless he does a Favre and comes back next year) and while it might not have ended with a win, it did end with him wearing the laundry of the team he felt the strongest affinity for in an arena full of people who still see him as a hero.  Regardless of the score, he went out on a high note.

This is Jas Faulkner, who is hoping next the Preds will keep all of their claws on the ice instead of in the air.  I'll be seeing you at the 'Plex and the 'Stone and online at Facebook and Twitter!