For years here at The L (which, on and off, has employed a disproportionately large group of Canadians/hockey fans, myself falling into both those categories) we've joked about starting a really in-depth, hardcore-fans-only hockey column, just to see what it would be like to further alienate our readers. BUT WE NEVER HAD THE BALLS. (This is as close as we came.)
So this is really a pretty sad time for me, as I confront my cowardice, my hesitation, in the face of far bolder media elites who've seen fit to bring the fastest game on two feet to the cultured New York blogerati. I have failed my sport, my people, my country.
(The column itself, as to be expected, is written for the non-initiate and, in my opinion, conflates the difference in Crosby and Ovechkin's personalities with the difference in their games, which isn't as pronounced as the writer would have it. BUT THEN AGAIN I REALIZE MOST OF YOU DON'T CARE.)