Now This Is What I Mean…

By Sean Gallagher

Earlier this season I wrote a bit in one of my articles about the Blues' new "Ice Girls". My main point was that the new Blues regime had, amazingly, completely botched the job. We all knew the emphasis on the bitchin' new ribbon strip was about six tons of (as my grandmother would have called it) hooey. But the Ice Girls, on the other hand, had some potential.

The New York Islanders were the first to uncover the possibility of putting turbo-hot butterface stripper wannabes on skates, and they scored a fan and media favorite by giving these pole-dancing "college students (pre-law, y'all! Wooo!)" an opportunity to dress up in half shirts and short skirts and give 10,000 Isles fans material for their own personal Spank Banks.

Seriously, what's better during aTV timeout? Would you rather spend 30 seconds watching a promo for "Spiderman 3" or covering your child's eyes as a squad of Slutty Santa's Helpers swab the dicks decks out on the playing surface?

Uh, yeah, my kid can learn about hot girls the same way I did: between and around the fingers of my dad's hands.

But no. I barked that the Blues needed to go one of two ways with this: 1) little cute kids or 2) turbo-hot turbo-tramps in spandex who finish up their shifts on-ice just in time to head over to East St. Louis to strap on some different spandex, fling on some baby powder and toss up a shower of glitter to walk through before she hits the "center stage guys!" as "Destiny!".

  Seriously, Destiny is trying to become a "veterinarian".

Instead of a troop of tramps, the Blues did exactly the wrong thing: they picked girls right in the middle of these polar opposites. Which is just plain creepy. Now when you're sitting in the stands and they come out, you cannot point to them and say, "look at the little girls skating out there! Aren't they good?"

And you can't quickly grab your kid's head and cover his eyes with your gappy hands while you make a mental note to see if any of your buddies are up for a night at the Rocket Bar, gambling boats pretending it's someone's bachelor party next weekend.

No, now you have to pretend like you're not looking at these too-young non-strippers who actually are trying to get an education and pretend like it isn't creepy that they remind you that you owe the babysitter extra money because the game is going long tonight.

Thanks so much, Blues. Would it have been too much to ask for you to check with the Dalls Stars before having try-outs? Even they managed to get this one right:

Granted, the New York Islanders' girls have had some problems lately. But really, when your goal for the season is "we want to be .500", wouldn't a little bit of "our hot Ice Girls are harrassing the opposing goalie" controversy be just fine?

I mean, talk about a blue collar effort if even our stripper hoosiers ice cleaners were getting into the act.

That definitely qualifies as "Working Hard To Win You Back". Right?