Sports Drawing Conclusions from the NHL Trade Deadline _ Brandon Ferguson, OP Hockey Analysis Analyst ee year in Canada, there is this magical time when hopes and dreams are bought and sold in a beautiful blur of bartering otherwise known as the NHL trade deadline. It has traditionally been later in the year when more teams have been, if not statistically, then at least realistically eliminated from the playoffs, creating more of a buyer’s market with more players available as rentals. This year it came early with still 20 games to go until the playoffs. Undaunted by the dry market, many teams made moves that ranged from small ripples to cannon ball splashes. The scene is reminiscent of slavery and cattle auctions, where families are uprooted and humans are traded like playing card commodities. It all plays out live on Canada’s three major sports networks, Sportsnet, TSN, and some low-rent high-numbered station called The Score. All three promise three things: they will break the trades, they will then break down the trades, and they will do it before the other networks. The trade breakers and the analysts all follow very structured stereotypes and will not (perhaps cannot) vary. The trade breakers are generally unfit fat bastard snakes in the grass, plying their organizational contacts (who are usually jock straps too) for any info they can turn into breaking news. These weasels are Darwinian smegma, the pond scum of evolution, the shit on your shoe that gets stuck in the tread, and TSN’s Bob McKenzie is the prototype. They will chastise athletes for underperforming and then take the elevator down one floor to unload 18 barely digested burritos in their only athletic feat of the day. The analysts will always come in the form of a panel mediated over by an unfunny dweeb-type. The panel will always consist of: an ex-General Manager (Gord Stellick on Sportsnet, who had a cup of coffee as the Toronto Maple Leafs’ GM, and Mike Keenan on TSN, who has been in more North American cities than rats have); an ex-player (Nick Kypreos on Sportsnet, an ex-goon who wears his 1994 Stanley Cup ring with the same shit-eating vigor he rode the pine with in 1994, with Glenn Healey on TSN, a loudmouth ex-goalie who couldn’t save bus fare, and Steve Ludzik on The Score, who has been abusing cocaine and crewcuts since 1982); and a former coach or columnist (usually the strength of the panel, Sportsnet had the insightful if understated Mike Brophy from The Hockey News while TSN had the insightful if verbose Pierre McGuire, former coach 18 of the Pittsburgh Penguins). Throughout the eight-hour extravaganza, deals break, gongs go off, analysts scurry to deem the trade an instant stud or dud, and reaction is sought from anyone with a camera, microphone, and legitimate hockey resume handy. Then, usually 15 minutes later, The Score will report on whatever Sportsnet or TSN has just scooped. TSN is by far the class of this trifecta and routinely gets the “get” on breaking trades. Sportsnet, sensing that they were a second rate sports show, brought in the Deal or No Deal girls to do what pretty airheads do: stand around, spit out opinions that have been handed to them (and written phonetically on cue cards) and then giggle. “I’m Amber, and my favourite team is the Pittsburgh Penguins and my favourite player is Jor-dan Stale... Staal...tee hee.” Point to Pittsburgh on a map, bitch. By far the biggest trade of the day, according to all three networks, was Yanic Perrault going to the Maple Leafs. This dynamic centreman, who didn’t have a team to play with at the start of the year, wins nearly 52% of faceoffs. That’s like...13 out of every 25 he takes. This obviously cements Toronto’s Stanley Cup chances, as in, they can now swim with the fishes rather than run with the pack. Nevertheless, the acquisition of Perrault solved all of Toronto’s needs as a competitive sports franchise: it made news, it allowed for a press conference, and it brought back an ex-Leaf for the third time. This follows other deadline day deals that brought back Wendel Clark, Doug Gilmour, and Gary Roberts. Although I haven’t done any research on this, I’m pretty sure they won the Cup each of those years. In other news, Florida received a bag of pucks as Todd Bertuzzi became a Detroit Red Wing, ensuring two things: firstly, the Roberto Luongo deal will now usurp the 1991 St. Louis deal that brought over Cliff Ronning, Geoff Courtnall, Sergio Momesso and Robert Dirk as the best Canuck deal ever, and secondly, that Chris Chelios will be dead by week’s end. Big Bert now has a real shot to finish what he started in Vancouver, that is, getting the Canucks to the finals. Bert, me and my crystal ball want to thank you in advance for the lazy hooking penalty you’re going to take with five minutes left in game 6 of the Conference finals to a 1994-esque Canucks team that relies more on team character than star factor. Cheers bud! Dallas got LA Kings captain Mattias Norstrom and some stuff in return for other stuff. Norstrom has a year remaining on his contract that pays $4.2 million per, ensuring that poor Eric Lindros will have to get injured for another team next year. As far as captains with heart go, the Stars now have three ex-captains in Mike Modano, Lindros and Norstrom who would perfectly compliment a plate of chicken hearts at my favourite Mediterranean restaurant. The San Jose Sharks made a big splash in taking Bill Guerin off of St. Louis’ hands for a prospect, first round draft pick and some other shite. They now have a very angry goal scoring American, which every team with aspirations to lose in the first round should have. They can now load up their first line with Guerin the Yank, Canadian play maker Joe Thornton, and Jonathon Cheechoo, a Native sniper. I don’t know what they'll call this stacked new line, but it’ll have to end with “...walked into a bar.” And in the dumbest move maybe ever, Edmonton Oiler GM Kevin Lowe found a way to piss all over the entire organization’s history in one fell swoop on Mark Messier Day. The native Edmontonian and world’s greatest leader, Mark Messier, was to get his number retired in a gala event that conjured up memories of yore while injecting some passion and hope into a team that’s about to miss the playoffs after coming within one win of last year’s Stanley Cup. To make the playoffs this year, the Oil would have to ride the back of their new Messier, Banff-born Ryan Smyth. On this most emotional of days, when the heart and soul of Oiler teams of lore would be raised to the rafters in a moment of historic foreshadowing for gritty Smytty, Kevin Lowe trades Smyth to the New York Islanders for Peter Sweet, David Fuck and Alex All. That is, Ryan Smyth for Sweet, Fuck, and All. As a Vancouver fan who was crushed when Messier came to town with his 1994 Stanley Cup ring to rejoin Mike Keenan and his 1994 Stanley Cup ring only to trade our Ryan Smyth (only better), Trevor Linden, to Long Island for prospects and draft picks, I feel for the fans of Edmonton. It’s a devastating move that can only be attributed to one thing: Mark Messier is a huge dick. I don’t know how he did it, but he’s managed to again fuck over someone considered a great leader. I now have no doubt that Mess will also end Sydney Crosby’s career and very likely had something to do with the assassination of JFK. All in all, a terribly exciting trade deadline day that has shifted the power of balance in the NHL once again to the West, reminded us that there is no such thing as ‘untouchable’ in a slave market, provided too much exposure to shitty has-been analysts, and again proven that the best fix is a minor tweak. Why? Because it’s been 12 regular seasons since the last Cup run for the Canucks and the team of destiny, with Linden back in the fold and out of Messier’s reach, is about to run rampant over all the supposed power houses. Canucks all the way..., so long as, God willing, we don’t run into Perrault and the Leafs in the final.