I don't know what to make of this--is it the nineteen somethings again? Are we really going to rehash how important conformity and self-sacrifice are to the ethos of professional hockey? Would The Great One ever wear sweatpants when there was a rule about suits and does this mean that Evander Kane is the devil and a blistering, pus-erupting cancer on the ass end of a reconstituted franchise on the edge of nowhere?
Winnipeg has hockey again, and the sport has always struggled to figure out how to send professionals to the hinterlands to play a team sport in a socially acceptable way that will satisfy the puritan nature of the sport.
Sweat pants? Good God, man. At least wear khakis.