For Thrasher fans it’s the thing to do nowadays to pretend they never loved you. That they don’t have your jersey hanging in the back of their closet. That they didn’t pay to see YOU. That they didn’t want you anyway. That we’re better off without you.

I confess it is with a tiny bit of satisfaction that, despite your trade to what you called a “class organization,” you, my dear Kovalchuk, went out much like you would have with the Thrashers — except that with the Thrashers you probably wouldn’t have won that one playoff game.

That being said, I loved you Kovy. Part of me always will. Just like all the others who have come and gone: Hossa (a personal favorite of mine and the only Thrasher jersey this non-jersey wearing Goddess has ever donned), Marc Savard, Peter Bondra, Slava Kozlov (I could post forever about how much I love him and how he, along with the Red Wings’ Russian Five, are the ones who really solidified my love of hockey), and now you, Kovy.

With a bit of shame and a dash of schadenfreude, I can honestly admit that your tasting defeat in another uniform made me smile a little — but sadly. Sadly because I did love you. And despite what Thrasher fans say, they loved you too. I wish you well, wherever you land. I do believe you did a lot for the city of Atlanta. You provided hockey’s version of the Human Highlight Film on many occasions. You were always accommodating and polite to fans (this year’s Casino Night notwithstanding, in which you were a bit “off”). So adieu Ilya Kovalchuk and best wishes.

And, please forgive my little grin. You don’t really deserve it, but I can’t help it.

Note: This post was written by a completely biased Thrasher fan who, deep in her heart, really wishes him back. No objectivity implied, striven for, or accomplished.

Photos: Ilya Kovalchuk; and Ilya Kovalchuk and Vyacheslav Kozlov by Goddess Kaatiya. Copyright 2009-2010. All Rights Reserved.

Dear Mr. Campbell:

Reportedly during a radio interview yesterday from the NHL general managers’ meeting, you responded to a question about possible discipline regarding Matt Cooke’s hit on Marc Savard Sunday by saying “it wasn’t an elbow.”

Please. Let’s watch the video one more time.

Cooke could have hit Savard with a solid open-ice body check. Instead, he deliberately moved his arm so it made contact with Marc’s head. Whether it was his elbow, shoulder, knee, foot, stick or a tire iron makes no difference (for the record, you can see that it’s neither precisely his elbow nor his shoulder, but somewhere in between that makes the connection). Are you going to make a decision on a suspension based on a few inches? Matt Cooke deliberately attempted to injure Marc Savard, and succeeded. No ifs, and, or buts about it.

I’m certainly not counting on you giving Cooke the 10-game suspension he deserves. Not after you handed Derek Boogard a pathetic two games for a hideous knee-on-knee hit. Not after you ignored Tomas Plekanec butt-ending David Krejci in the face. NHL discipline is, in a word, a joke. But as Marc Savard suffers the pain of a Grade 2 concussion, maybe, just maybe, this time, you’ll do the right thing.

Just imagine this: What if that was Sidney Crosby being carried off the ice on a stretcher? Because if you don’t stop this now, it very well may be, in the very near future.

Sincerely yours,
Savvy

Let’s see how we can make that hockey related…

Sleetaks freak me out. Kind of like the Thrashers’s play of late. What the hell Thrashers? Before we get to that, let’s talk about “The Land of the Lost,” one of my favorite shows of all time. I don’t know why, but I love that show. From the Sleestaks to Marshall, Will and Holly to Chaka and the *gasp* Sleestaks to the weird pylons where the gang would rearrange those glowing marbles to try to get home.

Speaking of pylons. Let’s talk about the Thrashers’ defense. Oh nevermind. There’s really no defense to speak of. Let’s just watch the trailer for the new “Land of the Lost” starring Will Ferrell.

The Thrashers’ “play” is getting really depressing. The only upside, I guess, is that they are falling so fast they just may get that No. 1 pick. Of course, the way the Thrashers’ luck goes, they will start to win at the last minute and win just enough not to be last. Hooray!

I want the Thrashers to have a “Land of the Lost”-style time warp and go back to when they had Marc Savard and Dany Heatley. Oh, I can’t believe those lean times were really the glory days!