Without Datsyuk, There’s No Rest for Weary Zetterberg

Without Datsyuk, There’s No Rest for Weary Zetterberg

There’s a buzz that Pavel Datsyuk might return to the ice tonight. Good. He can bring an oxygen tank for Henrik Zetterberg.

No one has felt Datsyuk’s absence more than Zetterberg, who is left to be 1) the blanket over Sidney Crosby, 2) the magic man of playmaking, 3) an integral part of the power play and penalty kill and 4) the inspirational youthful leader in the locker room.

After that, he cures world hunger.

I’m surprised he hasn’t changed it to Zzzzzzzzetterberg.

“Hey,” he said, laughing Wednesday, “I’m just happy to get the ice time.”

Without Datsyuk, There’s No Rest for Weary Zetterberg

Sad Day Knocks Us Down – But We’re Not Out

Once upon a time, General Motors stood strong and mighty, the world at its feet.

Today, the world prevails, and GM is on its knees.

Bankrupt. Can’t pay its bills. The filing Monday was just a formalization of what we already knew, the way a coffin formalizes a funeral. But something we once believed in, looked up to, even nestled inside of, is gone today and will never be the same.

Without Datsyuk, There’s No Rest for Weary Zetterberg

Back to Back

The two flashiest players in these Stanley Cup finals are conspicuous by their absence. But only one of them, Pavel Datsyuk, is in street clothes. The other one is actually wearing skates, although compared to the way he usually plays, you’d never know it.

Without Datsyuk, There’s No Rest for Weary Zetterberg

‘‘Jon & Kate Plus 8’ = A Waste of Time

"Are you keeping up with this Jon and Kate thing?" my colleague asked.

No, I said.

"Everyone’s talking about it. It’s huge!"

Huge is not the same as important.

"But it’s a reality show!"

Particularly true with reality shows.

"You gotta watch! It’s unbelievable!"

No. Sadly. It’s very believable. Reality TV has now done what we once feared robots would do. It has created its own world, with its own rules, and now is infecting the very society that created it.

Without Datsyuk, There’s No Rest for Weary Zetterberg

A Leg Up!

That’s the way the puckie bounces …

… around here.

What? You never heard of the famous shoot-it-off-the-boards-and-let-it-trickle-off-the back-of-the-goaltender shot? We use it all the time in Detroit. None of us was surprised when Brad Stuart scored the first goal of the Stanley Cup finals with that old chestnut.

What? You never heard of the shoot-it-off-the-boards-and-backhand-it-lightly-so-it-scrapes-off-the-goalie’s-leg maneuver? Of course Johan Franzen scored the second goal that way. We have fifth-graders who know that move.

Without Datsyuk, There’s No Rest for Weary Zetterberg

Finally! Helm Cooking

There was the puck, just sitting there, after all that, after all the blood and guts spilled on the night, after the exhausting 45 previous shots, after the Blackhawks’ tying goal that forced overtime, after the banging and swiping and pushing and groaning on every Detroit puck Chicago’s Cristobal Huet somehow managed to repel – heck, he stopped the last shot of regulation by flipping up his leg while lying on his stomach! – after all that, are you kidding? The puck just there? Inches from the goal? An open net? All Darren Helm had to do was swing?

Without Datsyuk, There’s No Rest for Weary Zetterberg

OUR LIVES AS SEEN THROUGH A WINDOW

I attended a funeral recently. The man who passed away was a renowned religious leader, a wise, respected, accomplished man. During one of the eulogies, I learned a small detail about his life. He had insisted, when his congregation moved to a new, impressive building, on having his office overlook the playground.

This way, he could look out the window to see children playing.

Now, this man could have picked any spot. He could have looked down on the prettiest landscape, to remind him that he was the boss.

Without Datsyuk, There’s No Rest for Weary Zetterberg

Detroit Versus Chicago? Chelios Speaks His Mind

There is only one hockey player when you want to compare Detroit and Chicago – as sports towns, as food towns, as bar towns, and as hockey towns – and you know who he is.

Chris Chelios, 47, was born in Chicago and played nine years as a Blackhawk. He now lives in Detroit, where he has played 10 years as a Red Wing. He is the son of a Chicago restaurant owner; and Chelios now owns two restaurants of his own – in Detroit and Dearborn.

He has eaten pizza in both towns, drank beer in both towns, done the late-night thing in both towns, and been cheered and booed in both towns.

Without Datsyuk, There’s No Rest for Weary Zetterberg

Old Wings Reach Chi-Kids New Tricks

You can’t blame the Red Wings for falling behind in the opening minutes Sunday afternoon. It takes awhile to put your teeth in, slide the orthopedic shoes on and get the walker out of the closet.

"With our legs, because we’re so old, like everybody says, you gotta loosen up in the morning," deadpanned Chris Osgood. "And we didn’t get a chance to do that."

He chuckled.

Then he put in his hearing aid.