We Should All Apologize to Claude Giroux

I’m sorry, Claude. I shall never doubt you again.

On October 22, with the Flyers six points out of a playoff spot after only eight games, Claude Giroux offered up the following to hysterical fans and shitty media:

“We’re not far off at all. How many points are we out, six?” Giroux asked rhetorically. “To think of the start that we had and we’re that close . . . we never thought about not making the playoffs. We’ve got to go game by game and we will make the playoffs.”

Here’s what I wrote about his proclamation:

Look, it’s early, and the Flyers can certainly climb out of a six-point hole. But someone might want to explain to Giroux that trends typically compound over time. The line keeps going up and to the right. Six points turns into 12 turns into 24 turns into 48 turns into 100 billion. This might be the dumbest athlete quote I’ve ever read.

I’m… so ashamed. I’m so sorry for my sins. It was a moment of weakness. What do I need to do? Three Hail Marys? Go snap my brand new graphite hybrid into my hand in a show of solidarity? Send the Flyers a box of G shirts as a peace offering? [They’re on their way.] I will make this right. Oh yes I will make this right in one way or another. Forgive me, Claude. FORGIVE ME.

Meanwhile, dumb and dumber over here (November 7):

And Carchidi’s story about G snubbing the media that day:

Maybe Claude Giroux was upset at another loss, this one a 3-0 defeat to struggling New Jersey on Thursday.

Maybe he was boiling because the fans booed the Flyers throughout another listless effort.

Or maybe he was just disappointed in himself for failing to score a goal in his 21st straight game, including the first 15 this season.

Whatever the reason, the Flyers’ captain walked out of the WFC and refused to talk to the media after the Flyers fell to 4-10-1.

Instead, the captain left it up to his teammates to explain another dreadful performance, one in which they barely tested 41-year-old goalie Martin Brodeur.

Good captains don’t do that.

My God. Let’s all just sit down and have a nice crow dinner. Hell, Panotch can expense the wine bill.