So I was at the Dodger game tonight, blindly cheering for Manny while some asshole behind me yells "DODGERS!!!" for the 2,185th time, when a little guy with a pitchfork and some horns popped up on my shoulder. He asked me if I wanted a high-scoring left winger while giving up only Kyle Quincey. I was skeptical, him being the Devil and all, but I eventually said sure. I mean, he's just the Devil, what could he do? Then I checked my phone.
Ryan Smyth is a Los Angeles King. Ryan Smyth. Ryan. Smyth. R. Y. A. N. S. M. Y. T. H. Jesus Christ. When I found out, I swear to God that I could barely breathe. I was at Petco Park, watching Manny Ramirez in his first game back from my suspension, and all I could think about was that big nose pulling on a Kings' jersey. It made me sick. I felt like how Freddy Prinze, Jr. felt in She's All That when he found out his girlfriend was dating Matthew Lillard.If you aren't a frequent reader of this blog, I should probably let you know that I despise Ryan Smyth. He is my El Guapo. If I had 2 bullets and were in a room with Ryan Smyth, Spencer Pratt and the douche bag guy from Die Hard ("Hans. Boobie. I'm your white knight."), I'd shoot Ryan Smyth twice. I hate his stupid face, I hate his style of play, I hate this faux-tough label that people have bestowed upon him, and I hate his stupid face. Hate hate hate. And now this guy is a Los Angeles King. Fuck me in the goat ass.
The worst part, and I mean the worst part, is that it actually kind of makes sense to me in the ivory tower part of my brain. The Kings have plenty of cap room for the next two years, they needed a left winger, and they have enough defensemen that they could afford to lose one, even a good young player like Kyle Quincey. They can probably trade Smyth when he has a year left on his deal, so I'm not worried about that. He gives us a good go-to guy on the power play and puts our offense back in the top half of the league. Our top 6 is now:
That's pretty good. But why did it have to be Ryan Smyth? Why couldn't it be, I don't know, Mussolini or Orlando Bloom or someone I hate less? I don't even know what to do. The Kings are my favorite thing in the whole wide world and now they're inextricably linked to the a douche bag that I hate. I can't possibly cheer for the man, can I? No, I won't. I refuse. I will not cheer for him. I will cheer for the Kings, I will love the Kings, but I won't cheer for him. I won't root for his death like I have in the past (although I admit that my first immediate thought was, "Fuck, I wish the Ducks hadn't traded Pronger now,"), but I won't cheer for him.
Fuck. This is going to be hard.