The John Scott All Star game campaign was always too-clever-by-half from a sect of self-labeled hockey progressives thinking they were being cute, funny, ironic or any number of numerous annoying adjectives. And what just happened in Nashville shows that the fans of this league get the exact Mickey Mouse operation they deserve with how ridiculous it all became.

. . .

As a 6’8″ tabula rasa, John Scott became all things to all people this weekend, with the amount of fan projection on what they wanted him to be at an all time high. Somehow all at the same time John Scott became emblematic of a farcically run league, a dying breed of hockey player, a post-modern idol for a deluded and self-congratulatory fandom, a vessel for physical vengeance, and somehow a sympathetic figure because someone at his job said something mean to him. From personal experience, I’ve had a boss threaten to kill me and mock how little he was paying me in front of co-workers, and nearly every other working human being on earth has had the same experience of having a boss say something shitty to them. But because John Scott plays a game wherein he gets to injure people not all that reluctantly, his profanity laced screed that he didn’t write himself somehow brings people to tears. Vomit.