Tonight, at the unholy hour of 9:30 p.m., the Nashville Predators begin the first round of the Stanley Cup playoffs, roughly six weeks after the other seven series.
This year’s opponent is the No Longer Mighty Los Angeles/Orange County Anaheim Ducks of Anaheim, Based on a Novel by Sapphire, who the Preds defeated in first round in 2011, Nashville's first-ever playoff series win.
You might remember that series because the Orange County Register of Southern California That You Will Know by the Trail of Dead ran a column by Jeff Miller, which intended to skewer Nashville by insulting Hee Haw and Cracker Barrel. I retorted, playing David Lloyd George to his Neville Chamberlain.
So despite being the crossover team to the Pacific Division in the NHL's convoluted stolen-from-the-CFL playoff system, there is some pre-existing heat between the two franchises and their fanbases.
For those who want trenchant analysis of the hockey matters, check out my column in this week’s Scene and, of course, David Boclair’s always-excellent stuff at the Nashville Post.
For those who just want to blindly hate the team from the Klan-founded, sued-by-Disney, forearm-tattoo capital of the world, there is more after the jump.
The Ducks captain is failed House of Windsor impostor Ryan Getzlaf, who, in his free time, is the afternoon manager at the Katella Avenue location of Orange County's best restaurant, The Cheesecake Factory, which natives rave about on Yelp like writers from The Guardian at a Bernie Sanders rally. Beyond his restaurant's otherworldly service, Getzlaf is highly regarded as one of the NHL's top playmakers whine merchants.The World's Tallest Toddler is renowned for the kind of spoiled brattiness that is Orange County's top non-rodent-based export.
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The Ducks leading goal scorer is Corey Perry, a vape store on skates who has spent years wearing the pumpkin-spice-latte colored logo of Anaheim while making this face.
Now, it's a bit of a cheap shot to call another person a walking cesspool of bacteria who is a danger to anyone in his proximity or, indeed, anyone who goes near anywhere where he has been. But as if that face wasn't enough evidence that you are looking at Typhoid Perry, bear in mind that during last season's bizarre league-wide mumps outbreak, the always-reliable sleuthers on Reddit identified Perry as Patient Zero.
And there is famous naked person and likely Trump alternate delegate Ryan Kesler, the Lit reunion tour of hockey players. As you can see, it is hard to select the most execrable member of the Fightin' Emilios. Indeed, the Ducks are more or less the Eagles, except there is no Joe Walsh to temper the repugnance of the rest of the foul fowl. But if you had to press Preds fans on the most hated Duck, most would name Kesler, an unreconstructed pest of the lowest order. And one who, in fairness, has scored roughly 492 goals against Nashville, including, again this is an estimate, 26 in a 2011 conference semifinal series when he played for the Canucks, before being forced out of Vancouver for a distinct lack of chill.
An unbiased observer would say Kesler has value beyond that of a one-dimensional, mustache-twirling villain, in part because his offensive chops make up for his offensiveness and allows Anaheim to split Perry and Getzlaf, creating matchup difficulties for opponents. The same cannot be said for fellow forward Ryan Garbutt, whose name literally means "Fish Rear." And not a cute fish. Like the grossest fish imaginable. There has not been an NHL player so aptly named.
The Ducks also boast spellcheck horror Jakob Silfverberg, who seems likable enough, except I have a sneaking suspicion that is a fake name created by an evil group of jewel thieves using him as a pawn to steal Ducks championship rings (do they give out rings for regular season divisional titles?).
And who can forget remember Shawn Horcoff, a man so old he remembers when the Edmonton Oilers were good.
With the exception of Hampus Lindholm, whose name sounds like a Scandinavian cartoon blimp, and Clayton Stoner, whose jersey sells well because Anaheimers love jokes that nearly rise to the level of a Family Guy clip show, the defense is forgettable, which makes it even more inexplicable that the Ducks gave up the fewest goals against in the league this year.
The credit there goes to the tandem of Ducks goalies Freddie Andersen and John Gibson, who are both named for pseudonyms used by the dudes in No Doubt when they checked into hotel rooms under the false pretense that anybody cared about the dudes in No Doubt.
Both have had exceptional years, but neither are really proven playoff performers. At least they have easily chantable names.
Prediction time: Nashville in six.
And for the love of God, get your kids vaccinated before Game 3.
