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Virallinen sivusto Dallas Stars

Razor With an Edge: Becoming the Blackhawks

by Daryl "Razor" Reaugh / Dallas Stars

Take this as an open letter to all you boisterous, pompous, front-running Chicago Blackhawks fans that will congregate in newfound glory inside AAC Saturday night.

How bout we take you Vince Vaughn-ite bandwagoners back a decade. I’ll guarantee that 10 years ago you weren’t running around acting all chesty in full Blackhawks regalia. No way. Not a chance.

You see your team was about to go 26-43-13 in the 2005-06 season, and that campaign of futility would mark the
eighth time in nine seasons that your club missed the playoffs. Yes, (gasp) the Hawks sucked.

Perhaps surprising to most of you is that was a season featuring the rarest of combinations: your team had no offense (29th in GF) but also couldn’t keep the puck out of its net (27th in GA). Kyle Calder and Tyler Arnason led your ‘attack’ (Remember those days?). Your goaltending was handled by Nik Khabibulin (3.35 .886) and Craig Anderson (3.32 .886). And a very green Trent Yawney was behind the bench.

However, on defense there was real hope. You had these two talented young building blocks, 20-year-old Brent Seabrook and 22-year-old Duncan Keith.

Two years later Kane and Toews arrived on the scene. Voila!

Game changers.

Good times were about to roll, Hawks jerseys were flying off shelves, and bragging camp was getting full enrollment.

In 2008-09, your Hawks went from 20th in goals against to 5th when iconic Blackhawks player turned inexperienced coach, Denis Savard was replaced by the scotch and cigar voiced Joel Quenneville.

Quenneville’s teams ability to keep the puck out of its net has led to two Conference Final appearances and two Stanley Cups in six years for your beloved Blackhawks, and that is what I suspect has spawned the irksome, thrasonical, Johnny (Toews) Come Lately swagger you love to exhibit in foreign arenas.

Well, know this Blackhawksnation, DStars fans are comin’ for ya. Coming for you like Jean Girard came after Ricky Bobby in Talladega Nights – only without the accent, the awkward kissing, and alternative lifestyle. But comin’ for you never the less.

 

Anyway, the point I’m eventually getting to is that the 2014-15 Stars look very much like the 2007-08 Chicago Blackhawks – poised to move to the next level.

Seguin/Benn/Spezza                                      Kane/Toews/Sharp

Hemsky                                                          Havlat

Daley                                                             Byfuglien

Klingberg/Nemeth                                          Keith/Seabrook

Goligoski                                                        Sopel

Jokipakka                                                       Hjalmarsson

Eakin                                                              Bolland

McKenzie                                                        Ladd

Sceviour                                                         Bourque

Horcoff                                                            Lang

Demers                                                           Wisniewski

Roussel                                                           Burish

Ritchie                                                             Brouwer

Eaves                                                              Williams

Garbutt                                                            Ruutu

Jordie Benn                                                     Hendry

Lehtonen                                                         Khabibulin

 

Coming into focus now isn’t it.

Quite the juxtaposition don’t you think?

What? Why yes, that is indeed the hot, brisket-breath of Starsnation you feel breathing down your necks.

So, with all due respect, (And I do mean all due respect) enjoy your pregame festivities around American Airlines Center tomorrow cause the party is about to end for you and your Frank Pellico organ-loving masses. You will instead be awash in celebratory Victory Green as you get rocked by the DJ mastery of Grubes and slapped across your smug mugs by the acerbic video-board genius of Stars Jumbotron.

Buckle-up princesses. Big D Wham-Sauce is on the horizon and tarantism shall ensue along the journey, for the matador shall dance with the blind shoemaker as the cutworm forgives the plum.

I just blew your Teravainen-loving minds, didn’t I?

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