And They Say There's Justice

I’m depressed. Marian Hossa has left town.

For those who are not devoted puckheads, Hossa is a world-class right winger. (Hockey player, dumb ass. Grover Norquist or Karl Rove could leave town in a pine box and I’d dance like the best man at a Greek wedding.) Picked up late last season by Pittsburgh’s Penguins, he has gone to join the team that beat them in the Stanley Cup finals, the Detroit Red Wings.

It was always at least even money Hossa would leave after the season, but Detroit? He got within one game of carving his name in the cup with Pittsburgh last month; I guess seeing the Wings skate around with it made him think he could get it done there next year. Here’s a news flash: you could have got it done in Pittsburgh next year, Marian, and you wouldn’t have to live in Detroit.

The salaries were about the same, except Pittsburgh’s was for five years, and Detroit’s for just one. Taking a one-year deal with Detroit is easy to understand; pledging to spend more than one year of your life in Detroit is crazy talk, $7 million a year, or not. I’m sure Pittsburgh would have offered him a shorter deal; they thought they were doing the chump a favor.

Hossa came to the Burgh with the reputation of disappearing during the playoffs. The Pens worked with him, put him on Sidney Crosby’s line, did everything but put Kolache on his pillow at night, to help him overcome his history as a choker, and it worked. What thanks did we get? He blew town like hovno through a husa.

This is how Detroit operates; it’s a parasite. Called itself the “Arsenal of Democracy” during World War II, because it manufactured tanks and trucks and planes. Manufacturing jobs on an assembly line. Tighten this rivet. Balance a tire. Line up an engine mount. Like building one of those particle board desks you can buy at Target.

It was harder? They used steel, you say? Where did the steel come from? It came from a smaller city with broader shoulders, where brave men slaked the thirst of ravenous molds with white-hot rivers of molten steel. Detroit built its reputation on the backs of Pittsburgh’s labor. It got Grosse Pointe and Greenfield Village; we got pollution. And how do they repay us? Taking Marian Hossa.

Bastards.