This Week In The 'Drome: Crazy Russian petro-gazillionaire stealing our precious bodily fluids, Vandy and The Beav, the veracity of Sylvia and more...

• Buck Turgidson knows

Opening Face-Off

American Values v. Dirty Russian Scoundrels: Congratulations to the Harpeth Youth Soccer Association, which is set to ink a development deal with English Premier League team and Champions of All Europe Chelsea FC, which is, of course, located in the London Borough of Chelsea Hammersmith & Fulham.

The opportunities afforded to the kids of HYSA — which includes the progeny of a number of SouthComm employees — by such a partnership are endless.

But there are some dangers here. Chelsea is owned by kookybat Russian petro-oligarch Roman Abramovich, who has so many alleged crimes and wrongdoings, his Wikipedia page has an extensive "Alleged Crimes and Wrongdoing" section (as well as a "Private Army" section). Abramovich is so shady, he was accused of antitrust violations in Russia, the equivalent of being picked up for pandering in Amsterdam.

But give him credit: His potentially ill-gotten petrorubles have taken Chelsea to the pinnacle of soccer — and even managed to encourage the narrative they are somehow underdogs — and it's that level of skill and commitment to the beautiful game this new partnership will bring to the banks of the Harpeth. Although given Chelsea's record of geographic inaccuracy, Abramovich may insist HYSA bill itself as being located in Belle Meade.

I can hardly wait to see all the young Connors and Jacksons flopping around in mimicry of Didier Drogba and, possibly, a tasered smallmouth bass. And will our young Bieber lookalikes take their sportsmanship lessons and tips on getting along with teammates from John Terry?

So, congratulations, parents and players of HYSA, you've done something no other Tennessee club has ever done. Just keep an eye on your mining rights.

• They are all sons of Bold Venture

Opening Face-Off

Tradition v. Perdition: It is not an easy time to be a fan of horse racing.

While people still flock to the track — the vices of booze and gambling, no doubt, encourage the gates — the insidious underbelly forever shows itself. Breakdowns and overworked animals, questions about the humanity of using animals as athletes, accusations of doping and sponging, and Thoroughbreds, with centuries of husbandry breeding ever-lighter — and thus thinner — leg bones.

It is not new. Indeed, the greatest piece of sports writing in history was penned about a horse "destroyed" — to use the sanitized euphemism — after a breakdown at Jamaica in 1949.

And the tragedy at the Iroquois Steeplechase was different. This was not a horse who ripped a tendon or shattered a femur or caught heat stroke — it was just in the mid-70s at Warner Park, after all. This was a horse who died, suddenly, struck down by the randomness of an aneurysm.

Arcadius — his name classical — fell just minutes after winning the race and though he raised his head and shook his hoofs, he never rose again. It was a head-scratcher for the doctors and his groom and his jock and all of his humans; like Heinz's piece says, "It always happens to a good-legged horse."

And Arcadius was good Saturday. He bested Tax Ruling, the latest contender who has tried to win the 18-jump, three-mile challenge on Nashville's second May Saturday for a third time. And he is the latest who couldn't do it. Arcadius was better, breezing and stalking and challenging and navigating the fences and the water perfectly, surging late over the final fences and winning without much doubt.

Like Pheidippides, he ran the race of his life. And like Pheidippides he couldn't bask in his glory.

Those who see horse racing as barbaric will no doubt add this to the long list of dead horses, felled for our entertainment. But this wasn't that. This won't be editorial page fodder and it won't chase sponsors, and the talking heads won't have all-caps BUT WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN moments with Arcadius.

His legacy is a win and a clutch of people who may never understand.

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• Is that Kool-Aid you're drinking, Pete?

Opening Face-Off

Rebuild vs. Re-buy : At the end-of-year press conference, Predators general manager David Poile said while the end result was the same — losing in the second round — the mood of the annual confab was different from 2011.

"Last year, we were pretty excited at this point. This year, we are disappointed."

Indeed, there will be no Scene covers with Gnash clasping hands with gold-clad Scene staffers like an Up With People album cover. There will be no love letters in the dead tree.

Instead, this week in the dead tree I ask what comes after all-in.

In poker, losing an all-in opens two options.

One, you can shove off, take your patina-covered pennies and play slots with Aunt Edna. Alternatively, you can dig a little deeper into the pockets, re-buy and sit back down for more.

This, too, is the Predators' choice. Do they lament missing their window of opportunity, resigned to the fact that Ryan Suter is going elsewhere along with umpteen other free agents? Or do they come back to the table, build on the success of the year and try to prop that window of opportunity for another year?

Poile said all the right things at the press conference. There was no groundwork-laying, expectation-diminishing chatter about a rebuild. He wants to go for it in 2012-13 too. He was even rosy — as rosy as the often-dour Poile can be — about the chances of bringing Suter back. Whether he was blowing smoke remains to be seen, but Poile is savvy enough an executive that if a rebuild is in the immediate future, he'd certainly prepare the press — and through that conduit, the growing fan base — for it.

Oddly, of course, the Predators have never been on a rebuild, like the Stalinistic five-year plans underway in Toronto and Edmonton. They were an expansion team and then they were a playoff team, and but for one season, they've been a playoff team since they first reached that threshold. Sure, there was The Great Firesale, but you know what happened after that? The team made the playoffs.

A reasonable person would expect, at some point, a rebuild is coming for what is a uniquely stable hockey organization. Nearly every professional sports team goes through one every once in a while. In the words of Clemenza, "These things gotta happen every five years or so, 10 years. Helps to get rid of the bad blood." But in Nashville, it doesn't look like Poile is going to the mattresses this summer.

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• 'By the time I get to Phoenix ...'

Opening Face-Off

The Clock v. The Cup : Back in September 2005, the travel section of the New York Times asked and exclaimed, "Where's the Party? Scottsdale!".

And so it seems Predators forwards Alexander Radulov and Andrei Kostitsyn are fans of, among other ladies, the Old Gray One. The Russian and Belorussian respectively were suspended for Game 3 of the Predators' second-round series against the Phoenix Coyotes of Glendale for "violation of team rules," which given Rads' comments and some "sources say"-heavy reporting, was a late night in the ballyhooed desert party town.

As I wrote in this week's dead-tree, the pair's dalliance in the desert was hardly the whole problem with the Predators' first two games in Arizona. NBC's Keith Jones excoriated Radulov in particular for "lazy play" (read: "Radulov is Russian and thus must be lazy") with a well-edited lowlights package during Game 2, then insisted to The Tennessean's Josh Cooper that the reel wasn't selectively edited. Mmmhmmm. Jones, good Ontario fella that he is, is clearly not a fan of puck-possession stats, which show Radulov in particular has been one of the better Predators during the playoffs.

In any event, without Radulov and the elder Kostitsyn, the Predators did slug out a win at home Wednesday, making it unlikely Barry Trotz will stick them back in the line-up tonight, my fancy Corsi numbers notwithstanding.

• Pat Summitt in action

It's local legend that Summitt's annual salary when she was hired to take over the Lady Vols in 1974 at the age of 22 was $8,900 a year. And, in addition to coaching and attending classes while working toward her master's degree, she drove the team van, washed the uniforms and coordinated fundraising efforts for the program.

And now, Pat Summitt is one of the greatest basketball coaches — men's or women's — in the history of the game.

It is a shame that it takes a law to ensure women are given the same opportunities as men, but it's hard to argue that Pat Summitt being freed up to coach was somehow worse than Pat Summitt having to coach, do laundry, drive the team van, and fund-raise.

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• Chris Walken as Gabriel (not Bourque)

Opening Face-Off

Angels vs. Demons: If Game One is any indication, the Predators-Red Wings series should be one for the ages.

Subplots are forever part of any playoff series and this one may have more than the best work by Tolstoy.

Wings coach Mike Babcock announced before the game he felt his third and fourth lines were better than the Preds. The Preds responded with three goals — the opener from lower-line center Paul Gaustad and the next two from third-line winger Gabriel Bourque. Two were seeing-eye goals, the kinds of lucky bounces that can prove the difference in the crucible of the post-season.

The last, though, was an absolute gem of a one-timer from Bourque off a pass from Nick Spaling. And Darren Helm, the guy Babcock felt gave his lower lines the advantage? Out for the playoffs after taking a nasty cut on his wrist which required surgery.

Shea Weber looked to set the tone early — or late, depending on how you look at it — slamming the head of Henrik Zetterberg into the glass as the game wound down. Many pundits expected a one-game suspension for the captain, who got off relatively easily with a $2,500 fine. Predictably, the outrage came swift. No doubt will the Wings seek their retribution for Weber's pro-wrestling move.

And it's a good thing Weber won't have to sit out, as big, playoff-ready, penalty-killing Ent Hal Gill still hasn't skated. If the officials remain as whistle happy as they did in Game One — with the commissioner watching, of course — Barry Trotz will want Gill ready.

And there's still at least three games to go.

Having fun yet?

• Famed bow-tie wearer Joseph Welch knows anyone with any decency will be wearing gold

Detroit's better days are in the past.

Once a formidable giant of efficiency, its aging behemoths are now mere shadows of themselves. Once great hulks now shells cracked with age, held together with duct tape and hope, lurching uneasily towards obsolescence.

And the city of Detroit isn't in good shape either.

The Red Wings and their traveling band of winged-wheel-wearing fans, dolled up with Bumpits and regrettable facial-hair (sometimes both) come to town tonight to face-off against the Predators in Game 1 of the Western Conference Quarterfinals (7 p.m., SportSouth, 102.5 The Game).

Last night, we gave you a guide to the Preds. After the jump, a FAQ on the Wings.

• Kristopher Martel
• Even Cameron's on the bandwagon

Playoff hockey is different.

It's harder-hitting, tighter-checking, lower-scoring, the yells from the crowd more visceral as each mistake or triumph could be the turning point in a seven game series.

And it brings out the casual fans. Folks unwilling to shell out 20 bucks for a 6-2 gong-show November loss to the Oilers are more than willing to pay twice that for playoff action.

Knowing that the bandwagon is going to be a little crowded starting tomorrow as Game 1 of the Western Conference Quarterfinal (7 p.m., SportsSouth, 102.5 The Game) series kicks off a tooth-and-nail battle with the hated Detroit Red Wings, your mighty Dromemaster is here to help the late bloomers find their ice-legs.

We'll have a guide to the Red Wings roster later and in Thursday's dead-tree, there will be more. But today, after the jump, is a rundown of the home team.

This Week In The 'Drome: Playoff pushes, single-color collars, green jackets, green infields, and your weekly dose of photographic non sequiturs.

Opening Face-Off

• Colin Wilson (artist's depiction)

Suits vs. Sweaters : Early last season, I examined Barry Trotz's use of the doghouse to get his players' attention.

At the time, the resident member of Le Chateau Bow Wow was one Jean-Pierre DuMont, now bought out and plying his trade in the Swiss League. One of the "beneficiaries" of DuMont's reduced role last year was Colin Wilson, who took over the spot as the team's designated sitter.

Later last year, Wilson, too, found himself relegated to the press box during the first round of the playoffs. And it seems he's found himself back there again.

A storyline for much of the year was how those playoff scratches got young Wilson's attention and he developed a more consistent game. In past years, Wilson was as apt to inspire as many negative "Holy cows!" as positive ones. For every dazzling dangle, there was a baffling lapse.

And now Wilson finds himself on the scratch list more often than not. The stat nerds are appalled. Wilson's Corsi On — basically a measure of shot differential while the player is on the ice — ranks fourth among Predators forwards (and one of those ranked ahead of him is Alexander Radulov, beneficiary of small sample size). For those who worship at the High Altar of The Shot, a Wilson scratch is blasphemous.

Fancy stats or no, a healthy Nashville line-up is going to be hard for Wilson to break into. With Paul Gaustad, Andrei Kostitsyn and Radulov, the team basically added a full-line of forwards in the past month and a half, leaving precious few spots for Wilson to fill.

Wilson heads for restricted free agency in July, and even if he and his agent think his best opportunity may be elsewhere, it's in his best interest to not mimic another Colin Wilson and be an Angry Young Man.

If he does walk, gird yourself for him to join the ranks of Scottie Upshall, Mark Santorelli, Ryan Jones and Rich Peverley, similarly skilled forwards who disgruntled Preds fans trot out as examples of goal scorers who have "thrived" elsewhere, ignoring that only Peverley has ever scored 20 goals post-Predator (and he did that but once).

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Opening Face-Off

• One, one extra home game. Ah ah ah!

4 vs. 5 vs. 6: With St. Louis earning the losers' point last night in Chicago, the Predators are officially all but eliminated from winning the Central Division and, thus, a top-three Western Conference seed in the playoffs (Ed. Note: Thanks to reader Seth Dean for noting that if the Preds win out and the Blues lose their remaining games, the teams will be tied and the Preds could win based on the regulation-and-overtime wins tiebreaker; your Dromemaster sometimes has math trouble).

And, unless they have an epic end-of-season collapse, there is similarly no chance of them finishing seventh or eighth. The Predators will, indeed, be somewhere between fourth and sixth once it all shakes out next weekend.

Fourth place looks to be ideal: home-ice advantage in the first round is a coveted asset, especially for a team which plays so well at home (the extra game of revenue certainly doesn't hurt). Conventional wisdom would say, then, that fifth is better than sixth; without home-ice advantage, better to face-off against the conference's fourth best team rather than its third.

But this is hockey, not logic class, so throw that conventional wisdom out the window.

Because the NHL rewards divisional winners with a guaranteed Top 3 seed, whichever of the troika of Central Division teams stuck in the morass of the middle of the standings — Detroit and Chicago are the other two — slips to No. 6 gets to play the winner of the Pacific Division, one of Dallas, LA, San Jose or Phoenix, all of whom will likely finish with fewer standings points than Nashville, Detroit or Chicago.

The Predators have played meh hockey in the last few weeks, but still cling to the fifth seed like Sméagol to the One True Ring. They can't seem to usurp Detroit in fourth, nor can they convince Chicago to come up and take the seemingly harder first-round match-up.

It's unlikely Barry Trotz would tank — at least not openly — and try to get his team into sixth. Playing a Pacific team might mean an easier on-paper match-up, but it also means longer travel with a team that hasn't been playing well. Ideally, they'd get into fourth and let Detroit and Chicago "fight" it out over who has the honor.

But if the Preds do continue this schneid and get into sixth ... well, that's not so bad.