In roughly the same vein, one senses a vague feeling of dread at the prospect of Charley Jacobs and Cam Neely being entirely in charge of the re-orchestrating of the Boston Bruins, which they apparently intend even if anything so sweeping is hardly necessary. Simply put, there is no way these guys are up to the task, even if it were necessary. Might this be the Original Amateur Hour that’s now in charge?
What, pray tell, qualifies young Jacobs, No. 3 son of Owner Jeremy, who, while hardly a charmer in his four decades here, was a fellow you under-estimated at your peril? Indeed, it’s reasonable to wonder if the shakiest decision Jeremy has ever made in his long ownership tenure was to put Charlie in charge. One holds to that notion until Charlie proves otherwise. At a minimum, it’s reasonable to point out that if his last name were Jones, Charlie would not be in charge of the Boston Bruins.
Nor does Neely, to whom young Jacobs clearly looks for guidance, inspire much more confidence. Granted, he was a wonderful player, a true warrior, and a great Bruin whose career was shamelessly curtailed by that nasty fellow, Ulfie Samuelson, whom Cam, for all his brawn and bluster, never found a way to subdue. But are we indebted to him for all that forever?
Neely seems to have wandered into his present eminence largely by accident, having no other meaningful alternative. It’s been a cushy post, short on challenges, with his main claim of late ostensibly being a gift for second-guessing. But has he coached anywhere, scouted, drafted, trained, negotiated, dealt with agents, been charged with grooming and motivating players – other than by threats, that is.
These seem to me important questions that have not been satisfactorily asked, let alone answered.
And it’s only the beginning. Hang on!