Don’t you play fast and loose with our goddamn hearts, John Tavares

and wear your helmet correctly, jesus

Johnathon, you are probably feeling pretty good right now. Every team from Tampa to Toronto is on your doorstep, kissing your feet, replacing your tap water with champagne and trying their darndest to shove millions of dollars into your soft, unnaturally nimble hands. You’re finally the big cheese round these parts, and you should be glad about that! After having the Art Ross trophy yanked out from under you, year after year of playoff disappointments, and moving to a home arena arena that literally can’t keep its ice frozen, the world is finally giving you your due. No one is deluding themselves into thinking there aren’t greener pastures out there. You are overworked and under appreciated here, we get that. It makes all too much sense, really.

Now that we got the logic out of the way, let’s get emotional; this diplomatic uncommitted silence is bullshit, John.

New York, as a place to live, is bad enough. It smells like garbage the instant it gets above 70 degrees. The subway doesn’t work, full stop. We sleep in closets and generally pay 1/2 of our income to do so. We have all been waiting for this franchise to stop eating from the fucking paint bucket for the better part of 20 years; for some reprieve, some relief from this garbage city. And it was almost completely hopeless until one person single handedly managed to knock the can away from Garth Snow’s mouth. As of right now, there is a legitimate reason to make the trek to the multi-billion dollar nightmare that is the Barclays Center; For the time being, there is at least one player worth watching even when the rest of the team is playing like an overpaid AHL squad. And we the people have invested too much hope and too many tears into you and this stupid team to be stonewalled by this particular player, Johnathon.

So, if you’ve set your mind on elsewhere already there is nothing more to be done; we begin steeling up for the next 20 years of trash. If you are going to stay, then I can hold off hurling my bobblehead into the east river for one more contract. The point is you need to say literally anything. The truth hurts, John; If we are going to hate you, then we are going to hate you. All that’s left to do is to stop dragging our hearts up and down Flatbush Ave. It’s not hard. It’s not unreasonable. It’s just common courtesy man.