This idea that our (or my) opinion of the Islanders moves at the deadline is somehow relevant is too much of a stretch for me. Nobody cares if I like the Sutton deal or if I think the team should move Roloson. Even I don't care what I think, if that makes sense. I've got kids to raise, wood to cut, work to do, etc.
And even when I didn't have things to do, there were more important things to sweat, such as "where we going out tonight?", "will it rain or snow for the February garage BBQ?", and "what time should we get there to make sure the goddamn Knicks people, or the college basketball people, don't get the Big TV?"
So as long as the Isles don't trade Okposo or Tavares, or even Comeau, Streit, or (this took me more than a minute to come up with the last name) Hillen, I will keep quiet. Such are the rigors of perspective in my middlin' age.
So what?
Providing the team doesn't drop the remainder of the schedule, and with last night's layup line against Chicago pretty much nixing that possibility, I'm going to be happy. And I think we all should be happy. The Mediocre One and I said early in the season that if this team was a surprise and made the playoffs (and I don't think what they are right now qualifies as a surprise -- maybe a mildly pleasant "oh yeah?", but not a surprise), then next year would probably be a disappointment. We envisioned a ninth-place finish, calls for Gordon's head, etc.
So let's assume we are seers ... coming up a nip short of the playoffs this year wouldn't be so bad.
Do you see? What are we even talking about at this point? Good God. I'm going to stop now.
A Final Thought
That USA/Canada thing was fun. The Mediocre One called me when Parise scored, and for about 20 seconds I was back in college when all the hockey guys, the Chiefs, sat around at the Ithaca Sports Club and watched the games.
