I'm fully aware that this was a case of San Jose clearing some cap space prior to free agency by unloading one of their relatively bad contracts on a desperate organization that might have accepted nothing more than a bottle of prescription pills as a cure to hockey's most heinous headache. I know they only traded for Mike Hoffman to turn around and maximize the diminishing value of a player who may have sabotaged his career by (allegedly) proposing to Cruella DeVille's even more evil step-daughter. What I don't know is why the Senators were worried about trading a ticking time-bomb to a team in a division that they aren't in any way, shape, or form ready to compete in regardless, but credit to the Sharks for leveraging a laughably run organization's ineptitude against them. I suppose we shouldn't have expected Ottawa to get themselves out from between a rock and a hard place without their totaled reputation absorbing another dent or two in the half-assed pursuit of retaining Erik Karlsson.
Anyway, how can you not appreciate this move? Even if you had a high-level of interest in keeping the Sharks from swarming John Tavares come July 1st, you'd at least have to find it hilarious that Mike Hoffman and his multiple overcharges worth of baggage were (at least in spirit) sequestered to three separate and extremely distant reaches of the hockey world in just over two hours time. I don't even care that it was the circumstantial result of one team's diligent management, because the symbolism of San Jose shipping (allegedly) the world's most wrathful WAG as far away as possible before she even got anywhere near close enough to poison their lunch, never mind their locker room, is just so perfectly fitting.
I can't say I'm surprised that a team that has trouble attracting outside talent, like the Panthers, decided to accept the (alleged) risk of a walking, talking internet virus when they stumbled upon the power play porn of a proven 25-goal scorer. I'm just glad that we'll always have the morning in which it appeared that Mike Hoffman and the big ball of (alleged) human feces chained to his ankle were getting passed around the NHL quicker than the mumps virus. If only during a fleeting moment of weakness, it gave me hope that some franchises have it in them to overlook deadly accurate one-timers if it means potentially infecting their team culture with (allegedly) the most reprehensible of two-timers.
Good luck to the Panthers in their blind trust of the talent. I can't help but think that Mike Hoffman would rather his long-time girlfriend get presented with a clean hard-drive as opposed to a clean slate, though the good news is that the staff at the BB&T Center is highly trained in rodent control...