St. Louis Blues: The Salem Hitch Trials

St. Louis Blues fans want blood.

Tuesday night: The St. Louis Blues come into their matchup with Florida riding high off a nice team effort against Columbus, where a speed-oriented attack yielded results against a stout Tortorella defense. St. Louis Blues fans, me included, expected the squad to jump all over the Panthers, who, while a team on the rise, had fallen to the Blues six times in a row.

Instead, what fans saw was a nearly unwatchable effort. No shots on goal until nearly fifteen minutes in the game. Passes that looked fired by weak drunkards. Solid hits by Ryan Reaves and atrocious giveaways from just about everyone else. Dump and chase, clear, repeat.

Even our superstars looked like they couldn’t wait to get on a plane for New York. Vladimir Tarasenko, who has apparently been sick, got the first Blues shot on goal, but his offensive M.O. seemed to consist of attempting to skate through all five Panthers toward Luongo. Jake Allen looked frustrated as Florida’s fourth line scored twice.

And then the baffling part: In the third, out comes Allen. The Blues were only down two, and yet Allen got the hook. Suddenly, Steen-Backes-Tarasenko becomes Upshall-Stastny-Tarasenko. Or Steen-Backes-Brouwer. I’ll be honest, the lines changed so much that I lost track. Finally, with about three minutes left, Steve Ott dumps the puck into the offensive zone and the fourth line skates around, down two goals with time waning. Predictably, the best lines the Panthers had easily slapped the puck out of danger.

Where did the recklessness go? Where did all the confidence in Allen go? Did we leave Scott Gomez in Buffalo or something? Should I send out an amber alert for Dimitrij Jaskin?

I’m fired up about this one.

Personally, how Ken Hitchcock still has his job is a mystery to me on the level of Jimmy Hoffa’s body or the Bermuda Triangle. I have sat for five years and slowly watched this man lead the St. Louis Blues on an aimless and painful death march toward another full restart for the organization. We have seen the Backes era come to fruition and we may soon see it go, and through it all, Ken Hitchcock’s been watching from the bench, arms folded and scowling, continually failing to ice a team that can stand up to today’s hockey elite for more than a one or two games at a time.

Hitchcock is one of the winningest coaches of all time. Sure, he’s a better hockey coach than me. I couldn’t coach a jelly donut. I’m sure there’s some reason I’m wrong here, and I’m frankly venting frustration.

But on a night where our forwards and defensemen look asleep on their skates, why pull the goaltender if he isn’t hurt? If one is trying to motivate the troops, wouldn’t it be more prescient to bench or limit the minutes of the men who have been consistently fumbling pucks onto the sticks of Panthers (Ott and Gunnarsson, I’m looking at you…) rather than taking your frustration out on the goaltender?

(Just side thought, but does anyone else feel that Brian Elliot has all the right in the world to despise each and every person in the hierarchy of the St. Louis Blues? How many years has he played great and then been benched or otherwise slighted, if not injured at the worst possible moment? If I were him, I’d want out, and any number of teams would be aching for his sub-.220 GAA.)

Line juggling isn’t an exotic coaching strategy in hockey. However, when done night in and night out, how are Blues players ever supposed to develop on-ice chemistry? Once behind in a game, Hitchcock tends to scramble his on-ice combinations to tailor to the competition, but throughout the last few years, our best success come from battle-hardened trios like the STL line, Steen-Backes-Oshie and last years’ brief but awesome Schwartz-Stastny-Oshie. These mad alchemical in-game maneuvers demonstrate a disturbing lack of faith in the Blues’ roster.

Speaking of Ott, who has tallied up a grand total of two points in 19 games, why is he on the ice whatsoever, let alone in the offensive zone with three minutes left? The same thing happened last year in Minnesota, when the Blues’ season was dwindling to an inglorious end and Ott was slowly cycling the puck behind the Wild net as seconds frittered away. That isn’t even mentioning the horrendous giveaway which led directly to the game-winning goal Ott served up in the second. Human sandpaper Ott may be, but when does trolling take precedence over winning? In the playoffs or not, Hitch’s fascination with an old pal looks like little more than nepotism. Less skill means less scoring, and less scoring loses you games.