By Surly Jacob.
It may not be the Kings.
But Hockey is back.
I never thought I could be so elated to come home, flop on the couch, and see the severely distasteful Sharks and Avalanche on TV.
The first big hit I saw, sent shivers of joy down my spine. Scott Nichol put a hurt on Darcy Tucker when he wasn’t looking, but I was.
Two teams I hate, playing the game I love.
I laughed. I cried a little. And while I watch, my mind was throttled with the possibilities of the start of a new hockey season.
What will this season hold?
I can’t wait to find out.
Will Wayne Simmonds score 20 goals, or will the blood on his stick handle be too slippery?
Will Justin Williams get a career ending hang-nail?
Will Jonathan Quick learn that when he plays the puck behind the net, bad things happen?
Will Rob Scuderi be the catalyst Jack Johnson had hoped for in Rob Blake?
Will Anze Kopitar, leaner, be meaner?
Will Teddy Purcell play like a star or a rice cracker?
Will Gretzky be a King, for old times sake?
Will Sasha Frolov find his way out of Pandora’s Box?
Will Matt Greene leave a vital organ on the ice?
Will Dustin Brown be, well, Dustin Brown?
Will Ryan Smyth mangle his nose enough to boost the offense?
Will Drew Doughty… nevermind. He will.
And with any luck, they all will.
This skepticism-inducing laundry list of intimidating questions is too long to answer all at once. In fact, despite these dire questions, in which our dismissal from the shadow-filled cave wall of purgatorial high draft picks so tenuously lies, there are yet still several more.
So I will leave you with just one.
Are you excited?
Categories: L.A. Kings News