From the Free Press this morning…
“It seemed a lot of the same things were being said and nothing was being done, and I don’t know, I just kind of got in there and had a little bit of a snap.”
Those are the words of your alternate captain, Mr. Kris Draper. He continued:
“This one came from the heart. … And I have a lot of pride being a Red Wing, and I just kind of felt like we weren’t playing with enough pride. That was one of the things I tried to hammer home.”
I have no doubt in my mind that Lidstrom is a great leader. His play on the ice and “do as I do” captaincy demands respect. But what I was trying to get at in my post last week is that I can’t see King Lidas being that guy who whips the kids into shape. Draper? He can be that guy.
So the team needed a little tongue thrashing. I think it’s just what the doctor ordered. Down by two goals on Saturday night, Jimmy Howard tells the story…
“One of our leaders came in, Kris Draper, and he let us have it. He said, ‘Enough is enough.’ And he went out there and got us going by getting a big goal there for us, and since then, he really got us going on the trip.”
They overcame the two goal deficit on Saturday, sure they didn’t get the extra point. But they certainly played a 60 minute game on Sunday night, despite the referees trying to slow them down (again).
And did Howie look good, or what? And just the way he conducts himself during interviews and the confidence you can see rising up in him has me believing. Don’t call for Ozzie’s job just yet, Wings fans. But we might just have something in this kid from New York.
3-1-1 in their last five games. Not too shabby. Looks like the father’s trip is still on for next year. On Wednesday, I’m looking for revenge. I know the Wings already beat St. Louis in St. Louis not too long ago. But I want to see it with my own eyes. Six points down to Chicago can evaporate pretty quickly with a nice little run here. Sunday is just the beginning. I’ll be heading to JLA on Wednesday with anger in my heart. And I won’t be satisfied with anything less than a good old fashioned butt-whippin’.