I was going to originally hold off until tomorrow to publish the next Nashville Predators Summary Sonnet, but with the recent news the Preds aren’t going to be holding on to Radulov (per Mr. Cooper) I figured I might as well toss this out here. I’m sure in the coming days there will be some additional analysis and speculation as to Radulov’s future in the NHL and what Poile can manage to do with the Russian player’s rights, but that isn’t what I’m doing tonight. Therefore I present the following:
Of Futures (previously unknown but now far clearer)
All to soon the month of June will come to pass,
As Russians come as the rains may choose to go.
Thus lines wet with ink are dampened by sorrows
When a man’s soul lies beyond the golden grasp.
By the banks of Ufa the Red Army sulks.
A Sasha is theirs though no one knows yet.
Back doors and bold strokes the singular safe bet,
Though we know that Poile is not one to
The way of the world is seek those that will pay.
Words become jumbled, difficult to parse through
When the words of a man are hard to see true.
Does money or heart claim to rule the day?
Though Fans wash the walls red with angry keystrokes,
Poile works his magic without the Preds going broke.
And so we conclude another foray into the dark world where I pull this crap out of. But, oh, am I going to miss that zany Russian and his incredible talents that may never be fully realized on a team that ranks Nick Spaling ahead of Colin Wilson. Still, for a season where Poile said that the team was going “all in” for the Stanley Cup, I’m glad that the team took the chance on Radulov.