Months, years, lifetimes have passed (for fruit flies) since we last saw our boys, our real boys, take the ice and I, for one, am jonesing like a crackhead for more of that sweet, red and white candy, the kind only Pavel Datsyuk and Henrik Zetterberg and Nicklas Lidstrom can provide.
The roster has changed. Rafi's gone, and we'll definitely miss him; Draper is up in the office, and I still haven't stopping weeping over that one. But Ozzie is whispering in Jimmy's ear, and we've got fresh faces and fresh legs and nothing but smooth ice and open nets in front of us. Now let's show everyone how old we really are:
Twenty years... and counting.
Let's Go Red Wings!!!
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