Under the Bucket: Fuck Expansion—Deaner's Open Letter to Gary Bettman

(Editor's note: Welcome to Under the Bucket, where Deaner from the classic flick Fubar tackles all things NHL for VICE Sports. You can follow him on Twitter and read previous installments here.)

Dear Gary,

I know you probably ain't gonna read this, but I'm gonna write it anyway. Back in the day I used to ask Santa for cigs and the Easter bunny for hash, and I never got none, but I always had hope my dream of smokes and tokes might come true. And especially now that the whole world has seen your greasy fuckin' email inbox, maybe you might be in the mood to listen to some common fuckin' sense.

Gary, you're dumb. Not actual dumb, like my buddy Wren who got trapped in a dishwasher—but dumb like a church bell. You stand way up there looking down on the town, people respect you, and you make a lot of noise. But instead of gathering the faithful to worship at the temple of Righteousness, you gather the owners to worship at the blood-stained altar of the mighty Dollar.

Every single thing you've done since you met the devil at the crossroads and became commissioner has been about making money (see you at the next lockout, man!). Yah, when she comes to makin' money, you've done a good job for the NHL, and your dark arts have rewarded you with a fat sack of millions. So congrats, Gary. But you do know every other major sport has been making huge money at the same time, right? It's not you Gary, everybody's doing it. Even clown-king supreme Roger Goodell is doing it. It was timing, Gary. You signed on at the right time, that's it. When the end comes, and you look back, what is your legacy gonna be? That you made money like everybody else? Fuck that shit. Fuck that shit with a frozen turd, Gary. You can do better, and the Deaner is gonna tell you how.

You know those words that get owners harder than a puck on a North Bay pond? No, it ain't "yacht wax." I'm talkin' about NHL expansion—$500 million just to get in. Times two, BABY!! It all sounds so fucking wonderful, Gary, but NO!!! LISTEN TO DEANER!!! This is your time, Gary. This is your time to make your mark. The door is open, and just like them billions you already made, all you gotta do is walk through it.

I know what you're thinking, Gary. You're thinkin, 'Deaner, you're all over Expansion cuz that'll mean having a team in the PARTY city of Las Vegas. Deadly, right? It'll bring back the blood and the passion of the Quebec rivalry. Even deadlier, right?!? Well, you'd be wrong, Gary, wrong as a seagull eating a diaper.

Vegas don't need the NHL. She's willing to have you Gary, but she's not gonna love you unconditionally. When times are tough, she's gonna be at the slots, and Caesars won't be able to give away enough tickets to fill the Black Aces halfway. You KNOW it. You know beyond all the fuckin' hoopla that people in Vegas don't give a fuck about hockey, and there's no way you can force them to. Oh sure, they'll check out a game just like they check out a fuckin' Celine Dion concert, but name one successful franchise where the fan base is a bunch of tourists who are gonna be gone in the next 24 hours… Didn't think so.

Don't do it, Gary.

And Quebec… fuckin' rights I'd love a team there. And there should be a team there. But we don't need expansion for that, Gary. And you fuckin' know this.

Last year 13 teams had a guy with 30 or more goals. Way less than half of the teams, Gary. Not good. In fact, fucking terrible. Goals are fun, remember? People jump to their fuckin' feet, spill their beers on the kids in front of them, and generally piss themselves with happiness after a goal (I know I do). But there's too many teams, Gary. There ain't enough high-end talent to fill all these teams. The NHL has become a league where if you are an amazing hockey player, you are GUARANTEED to get drafted to a FUCKING TERRIBLE TEAM. All us fans accept it as normal. But this is COMPLETELY FUCKED.

You know how you train dogs, Gary? When a dog shits on the carpet, you rub their nose in the shit. You don't start dancing on the dogshit, spreading it around. Gary, there's a couple markets in the states that are not working. Stop spreading the shit around with your fancy shoes, and ship them out. Show other owners that an NHL team ain't just about paying into the kitty, it's about respecting the game, about putting a good team out there and making hockey better, every day.

Sometimes I watch a really good game and wonder what hockey would look like if every team had three solid offensive lines. Three lines with guys FLYING up and down the ice, with finish, with fuckin' DANGLIN' NASTY ASS GREASY SKILLS. It would be awesome, Gary, and you know this.

The table is set, Gary. The dollar tanked. Expansion don't look so pretty no more. Tell the owners you have a vision. A vision where the game is stronger, more wonderful and more exciting than it's ever been. That the long-term goal ain't to make money, but to rival the NBA, the NFL, and MLB in popularity. Global Sport Glory. And to do that, all you gotta do is pull up the drapes and show the world what we already have—speed, grace, violence, givn'r… that's hockey.

Like a bad drunk at a rad party, kick expansion down the fuckin' stairs. She's time. And Quebec… well, she built the fucking arc. Slide 'em a team and the animals will come.

So, yah, Gary, let it sink in. This is your chance to do something good. Every year at the draft you get booed. Nobody likes you. But you can do something good for the game and make a real legacy for yourself. Think about it, Gary. It's possible.

Oh, and if you go for expansion, don't be surprised if one day there's a flaming shit bomb on your doorstep. You can spread that one wherever you fuckin' want.