There's one thing, and one thing alone, that's stopping me from referring to Dougie Hamilton's retaliatory pat on the head of Brock Nelson as a perfectly petty troll job and that one thing is redundancy. You see, since the very second the Islanders' forward overconfidently celebrated a game-tying goal that he didn't even score during a pivotal game in which only his own team was in desperate need of a win, all the Carolina Hurricanes did was return the favor fifty-fold in putting the finishing touches on the sweep. Metaphorically speaking, if that initial invasion of personal space was an emasculation of Curtis McElhinney then what immediately followed for the next four periods and change was a non-competitive infantilization of the entirety of the New York Islanders. What was a close series up until that exact moment quickly became one team slowly putting their competition down for an offseason long nap. Never mind a consoling head pat, because the Hurricanes might as well have put a dab whiskey under their offensively impotent opponent's tongue, gave them an extensive back rub, tucked them into their team-licensed bedspread (a la 'Pajama Boy'), and sang them a lullaby with how systematically they put them down for the count throughout the remainder of the shortest of series. If we're talking spiteful symbolism in its most fitting form then what Dougie Hamilton should have placed gently on the head of Brock Nelson in the handshake line was a goodnight kiss, because the Islanders had been successfully put to sleep far prior than the conclusion of Game 4. Of course, that would have been super awkward way to incite a very literal line brawl, so I'm glad he instead went with the head pat in condescendingly returning the salt to the gaping wound from which it originally came.
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