I watched Sunday night's Canucks game at my parents' house after Easter dinner, although "watched" seems a little dishonest, as we paid very little mind to most of it. For the first two and a half periods, it was just on behind us in the living room. But we gave the Canucks our full attention for the final seven minutes, with the score 2-1, as the Canucks pushed for an equalizing goal.Â
They got one in short order. "Well, crud," my dad said. "Don't we want the Canucks to lose so they get a better draft pick or something?"
I refrained from offering him my conflicted take on tanking. I mean, if he wanted to know where I stood on the matter, he could just read my blog like he cares what I do or something. But it also didn't seem overly important to discuss the ramifications of the Canucks getting points versus Chicago.
"Don't worry, they're gonna blow it," I said. And then they blew it, the final horn sounded, and we shrugged and turned the TV off.
All of this is to say, I was pretty checked out yesterday. I'd argue most Canucks fans are. Hell, I'd argue most Canucks players are. But then I received an update that shook me to my very core, out of my doldrums, all night long.
The Canucks have the crap mantle. Again.
Longtime readers will remember the crap mantle, which is awarded to the team who loses the season's first game, and then passes from losing club to losing club until one team is left, at year's end, with a mark of their eternal shame. There is nothing worse than having the crap mantle. There's a reward to finishing in last place. There is no reward for being left clutching this ignominous mantle. There is only profound disgust and disapproval.
You can't ignore it, either. It's like the monster in the aplty-named It Follows. Regardless of where you go, it's attached to you, and it's approaching. There is but one way to rid yourself of it, and it's to pass it to someone else. The Canucks have failed to do that for four consecutive games.Â
Â鶹´«Ã½Ó³»contracted the crap mantle from the St. Louis Blues the first time they were shut out by Brian Elliott this month on March 19. It was the fifth time this year they came into possession of the friggin' thing. Their shootout loss to the Nashville Predators was the closest they've come to doffing it since, and anyone who's watched this team over their current, eight-game losing streak would be forgiven for thinking they won't get any closer than that before the year is up. But they absolutely must.
Finishing the season crap mantle-free isn't as simple as just winning once. A surprise win against the Sharks on Tuesday night would send it back to San Jose, but the Canucks and Sharks are playing a home-and-home, which means Â鶹´«Ã½Ó³»could easily get it back two nights later. If they split this two-game set, pray Â鶹´«Ã½Ó³»wins the second one.
That said, it seems unlikely that these Canucks can beat the Sharks even once. Same goes for the Ducks and Kings, their next two opponents. Which leaves Â鶹´«Ã½Ó³»just three more opportunities to ditch the damn thing, one of which comes with a potential boomerang scenario: the Canucks close out the season with games against the Oilers, Flames, and Oilers again.
If the Canucks give it to the Flames, there's no issue. But if they manage to pass it to Edmonton on April 6th, they're still not rid of it: the Oilers next game, their 82nd of the year, is also versus Vancouver. The final game of the season could be a crap mantle showdown. Imagine the drama!
I get the apathy. I have it. Last place is fine by me. But last place and the crap mantle? Absolutely not. No way. No. And I hear you when you say, Harrison, you guys made the crap mantle up, it's meaningless. I really do. But that shouldn't change anything. The NHL made the points system up. The game of hockey itself is made up. Now that your mind is blown, I hope you can see where I'm coming from.
Stop the tank. We have a stowaway. The crap mantle must go.