Crow, idiom 7. eat crow: Informal. to be forced to admit to having made a mistake, as by retracting an emphatic statement; suffer humiliation: His prediction was completely wrong, and he had to eat crow.
We will be serving crow today. I already had my helping this morning, but now, it’s time for the rest of the local media to eat theirs as the Flyers have pulled themselves from the depths to earn a playoff spot. First up, Marcus Hayes.
On This Night, the Captain Abandoned Ship, November 8:
IN THE MOMENT of crisis, like a famous (if fictional) ginger who predated him, Claude Giroux was nowhere to be found.
The Flyers, assumedly led by Captain Claude, held a players-only meeting after their mind-numbing, 3-0 loss to the visiting Devils. Afterward, Giroux was seen heading into the training room, assumedly to regroup before addressing the press.
Soon thereafter, Flyers staffers told the press that Giroux had left the building.
That’s right: He scarpered off, left Hal Gill and Wayne Simmonds and Ray Emery and Andrej Meszaros, Goat of the Night, to explain why the team with nine points in 15 games needed 20 minutes afterward to cleanse its collective soul.
Which, of course, recalled the famous fictional forebear:
Brave Sir Robin ran away.
Bravely ran away away.
When danger reared its ugly head,
He bravely turned his tail and fled.
Yes, brave Sir Robin turned about
And gallantly he chickened out.
Bravely taking to his feet,
He beat a very brave retreat.
What went on in the meeting to make Giroux disappear?
In no sport is chemistry as elemental as in hockey.
The degree of endurance required, for the entire roster, is borderline superhuman.
The amount of pain suffered by every man is borderline masochistic.
The person who holds this together is not the coach: It is the captain.
By word, by deed, by sacrifice, by accountability.
We know that Sir Robin, last night, lacked them all.
Allison (@allisonbeck17) offers you this crow, Sir Marcus: