Josh Anderson on the first trio: we know the song.
We’ve tried it, replayed it, remixed it, and yet the story always ends the same way.
But no, here we are given the disc, as if the results were going to miraculously change this time.
Martin St-Louis’ decision to promote Anderson after a punishing training session where he struggled to touch the line, tongue hanging out and short of breath, leaves a taste of déjà vu in the mouth.
However, this is the same Anderson who dragged his feet during the suicides without the puck, an exercise where, remember, even the most disciplined players run out of steam.
And he gets rewarded for that?
Because he corrected Tom Wilson during the last game against the Capitals?
So let’s see.
Anderson perhaps deserves kudos for his toughness and his willingness to defend his teammates, but from there to installing him as a central piece on the first line, there is a chasm that St-Louis seems to have decided to cross.
The message sent here? A player can drag his feet in practice and receive a promotion, as long as he is willing to go out there and fight it out on the ice.
Great lesson for the rest of the team!
Guys who work hard, who respect discipline and who perform consistently… they must look at this decision with a raised eyebrow.
Anderson seems to have won the jackpot by the sole virtue of his fists.
How many times do you have to try the Anderson-Suzuki-Caufield combination to realize that it just doesn’t work?
It’s not like this experience is new or innovative.
We’ve seen it before, this attempt to find the perfect chemistry, and each time, it ended in a blatant lack of cohesion.
Suzuki, an intelligent and calculating player, and Caufield, a precise sniper, have nothing in common with the erratic style of Anderson, who often rushes headlong without much of a plan.
But there you have it, the Canadian insists, as if by repeating the same experiment over and over again, the results would ultimately conform to the desires of the organization.
This promotion for Anderson is the perfect incarnation of this habit of hoping for everything from a player based on an isolated act, an intense moment.
A good battle against Wilson, and voila, he goes back to the top.
Meanwhile, consistency and fitness – two essential qualities for a first-line player – are pushed aside, as if they were incidental.
Anderson struggles to keep up the pace, but here he is in the front row, as if nothing had happened.
Ultimately, this choice of Martin St-Louis is perplexing.
If it’s to encourage Anderson to “become” a first line player again, the bet is risky.
Because let’s be honest: how many seasons have we been trying to find him a role worthy of his contract?
The inconsistency is glaring.
We seem to ignore the fact that Anderson never knew how to make Suzuki and Caufield shine – but all it takes is one raised fist against a muscular opponent, and suddenly he is propelled into the lead.
Once again, we repeat a tired formula, hoping, who knows, that the magic will work.
But the more it changes, the more it stays the same.
Misery…
