And there you have it folks. We've officially reached the "I wonder if this shit will stick to the wall" portion of an incredibly underwhelming season. Seems like just yesterday it mattered who was playing with whom, and all the sudden curiosity has taken over for chemistry as the driving force behind lineup decisions. The truth is, after having suffered through watching their collective face get rearranged during Tuesday night's 60-minute assault, I wouldn't blame John Hynes if he randomly put players together like one might assort their laundry while wasted. Hell, I'd be half-surprised if a fifth of warm whiskey wasn't the lubricant on which Taylor Hall slid down to the second line. Shall we keep going? Bratt on the fourth line? Severson and Vatanen together? Lovejoy being bumped up instead of out of the lineup by Santini? God bless Mackenzie Blackwood's heart, because the first start of his NHL career is pretty close to the last resort for a team that's now changing lines like one might get dressed in the dark. Again, I don't blame John Hynes (nor want him fired, for that matter). There's only so many ways to inspire a team that still no-shows on a weekly basis, but one that was still available to him was making his players think they are driving him to drink. I have my doubts as to how well sympathy will work as a motivation tool, but it can't be any worse than whatever alcohol they were running on as Toronto put their toppling, tipsy ass in an Uber by the start of the second period. Who knows, maybe it's just crazy enough to work. Not like anything else is anyway...
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