Cracks Found in the Revolution

There has been rampant talk of cracks forming all over the Revolution dressing room & GM Prozeller has been nowhere to be found....until now
by Che Guevara | January 26, 2013, 3:10 AM ET

The warm sun beating down on this reporter, it’s about 2pm and most of the shop owners on this quiet Havana side street are closing their doors for a quick siesta. The broken cracked pavement is so hot under my shoes you would think it might melt back into a solid road; the faded paint on the store fronts is basically dripping down the cheap stucco walls. No choice but to duck out of the sun for a moment, leads to a side alley. As the heat subsides, a faint banging of steel drum music, along with a consistent tapping leads to a doorway that reveals a small bar, one wouldn't even knew existed. Sitting at the bar, a man with sweat dripping off his forehead even with the cheap metal fan blowing. As he turns, slowly moving out of the shadow of his Cuban style straw fedora, with glass tapping on the wood to the garner the attention of the bar keep for another drink he obviously didn’t need was GM Prozeller himself.

He seemed disheartened when approached, as if he had finally been caught in what must have seemed like an inevitable outcome. Lowering his head to the table in disgust, the bartender finally came by and freshened up his mint julep. Sitting down beside him, there were no words spoken for the first 10 minutes, just sat there in acceptance of the truths that be. Finally when it was time to begin probing for a little information GM Prozeller, whether in anticipation of my arrival or just unable to chronicle his thoughts anymore, slowly pushed forward a leather bound notebook. As I pulled open the white page marker to the most recent page I see a list of names...one after the other and each one with a small cross carefully drawn through the center of the name. The page looked wet either from a spilled drink or more likely tears of shame, embarrassment and disappointment. 

As the names began to jump off the page, it hardly seemed this could be true, but the soulless look in Prozeller's eyes said it all. Signalling the bar keep for a drink, to help ease the pain of what was quite obviously going to be a very painful discussion. An excerpt from the note book lies below

Miikka Kiprusoff, Mike Fisher, Jim Slater, Daniel Winnik, Johnny Boychuck, Aaron Johnson, Troy Brouwer, Jay Beagle, Raphael Diaz, Lee Stempniak "  

As the questions swirled and the frustration and angst grew, it must have been some unbeknownst force that kept me from just striking GM Prozeller across the face and screaming "WHY!" Instead we just sat...drinking, and drinking......and drinking. There was nothing to be said, what was done was done and there was no bringing this team back together. Just a year out from challenging the cup champs in a game 7 for the conference title...and now it’s gone, all of it. The memories basically wiped from all the history books, nothing matters anymore, new jerseys, last undefeated team, Seguin & Fisher's torrid pace....none of it matters. This team has fallen into a crumbling abyss of which there may be no bottom. 

Perhaps it was all the whisky, but after the sun had long disappeared from the sky, Prozeller finally sat up in his chair looked through his pockets and pulled out two Partagas Special Edition Churchill's and offered one up. With a short chuckle and a smirk he lit one up and started puffing away. He summons the bar keep once again and switches over to a rhum based concoction, looks around the bar and once confirmed there was no one around he finally utters "Fresh start". That was it...nothing else, just looked back to his drink, and puffed away on the cigar as it clouded up the small little one room bar. 

As I sat there wondering what exactly he thought was a fresh start, why the team needed one, and what his plan was to replace and rebuild this team as it was just ripped from its entire foundations. All-star goalie gone, both leaders on the PK gone, recently signed all star center gone...the smoke was really clogging up the room now, making it hard to breathe as the haze settled into a thick fog. Reaching back for my drink, to find it freshened up was a nice surprise, the thoughts swirled again that maybe Prozeller made this move to take the pressure of last year’s success off his shoulders, or perhaps it was because the teams core, while still young had key pieces pushing towards UFA or retirement...finally thinking it was worth a shot to inquire. But while looking around through the fog, it was obvious he had disappeared under the mask of the heavy smoke. Frantically looking around it was confirmed true, GM Prozeller vanished right from the very spot. 

Instantly putting out the cigar, only to find his in the ashtray still lit….the smoke dissipates and unveils a page from the notebook that had been blatantly ripped out and left behind almost insultingly for me to find. Examining it closely, my face couldn’t help but smirk and chuckle in the same fashion as his, it all made some semblance of sense now. "Fresh start", I whisper to myself. After three more drinks, the bar keep hands over our tab, $748.20 all in booze sounded about right for how well my eyes, hands and legs were functioning. Leaving the bar, the bar keep yells out to inform that I left the notebook page, I tell him to keep it...he will know why tomorrow…… 

Page had scribbled on it "Jussi Rynnas, Ryan Spooner, Colby Robak, Victor Rask, Eric, O'Dell, Jakub Kindl, Martin Marincin, Nicolas Deslauriers, and three 3rd rounders

"The king must die so that the country can live." ~ Maximilien Robespierre

¡Viva La Revolucion!   

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