If you don't live in Pittsburgh, you probably don't know who Mark Madden is. You should be congratulated for that, but now I have to explain who he is. Madden is the local sports radio blowhard. He is fat and remarkably unattractive, even by the low standards of sports radio. He once had a heart attack at a rec league deckhockey game. Mind you, he wasn't actually playing. He was coaching. Coaching! You may think that these are cruel and unnecessary descriptors, but a college-level English lit professor would compliment me for painting such a rich and layered character description.
If most people think one thing, Madden automatically thinks the other. He revels in taking on Pittsburgh's sacred cows, having bashed Jerome Bettis, Myron Cope and the Rooney family, among others. Why? Because he's so edgy and out there. Nobody is quite sure what Madden actually likes because his show is only three hours long and he never has time to get around to that stuff. It is assumed that he likes hockey and football in principal, but not the Penguins or Steelers or NHL or NFL. He just like the general concept of these sports.
So...with Sidney Crosby out 6-8 weeks and Evgeni Malkin skating like the best player in the league, I want to cut Madden off at the pass and shoot down his budding argument before it even gets off the ground. We should not trade Crosby so that we can re-sign Malkin.
If he doesn't do it tomorrow, he'll do it Friday after Malkin puts up another three points on the Flyers. He'll imagine that the Ducks are willing to trade Francois Beauchemin, Corey Perry, Bobby Ryan and two picks for Crosby. Then we'll sign Malkin for $9 million a year. This will make sense because Malkin is more skilled and Crosby is maybe a bit overrated. Then the phone lines will explode and Madden will hold firm in his belief and say something like "Crosby doesn't score enough goals!" as if that's some sort of evidence and he'll feel that because 99% of the world disagrees with him at all times, he sees the world on a higher plane than we do. We just don't get it. We don't see things like he sees them. Then he will go home and eat some nachos and figure out a new contrarian opinion for tomorrow.
I'm on to you, boy! I know your game. It is a simple game for feeble-minded people. The type of people who listen to sports radio and actually call in.