PK, your mother and I need to talk to you.

I've been putting off this post for a while. Simply put, I hate having to write it. It's like that conversation about sex you have to have with your daughter. It has to happen, you just wish you can push it back to say, never.

We need to talk about you, PK. You are the inspiration behind this blog. You are by far the most talented player on this team. You're charismatic, you're good lookin', you're pretty much fantastic. The problem is that you're lost out there. I'm not about to put this all on you. God knows there are a lot of people to blame for your mediocre season. Jackie had no idea how to coach you, Markov's absence hurt your development and Perry Pearn's firing shook you to your core. We all know you two were brothas.

But even with all that, you haven't been pulling your weight. When you got here, you immediately became a fan favorite. You were given a pass for all your mistakes and congratulated for all your nice plays. Well, nothing in life is free my man. Time to pay up. The team is in the shitter and it needs you. It doesn't need you for a smile and a good sound bite after a loss. It needs to to put your money where your mouth is. You're expected to play at a certain level. You ain't doing it. But that's not the problem. You're not the first or the last to have a sophomore jinx. But you need to get your head out of your ass out there. Enough with the childish smiles after scrums. Enough with the 3 second windup on your slapshot off the point. Man up. We need a bad ass. Someone who's a little more Malcolm X and a little less MLK. Turn the other cheek? Fuck that. Beat the shit out of that cheek. And when you're done, beat the shit out of the other one for good measure.

Now I'm not suggesting you change who you are. We all fell in love with your enthusiasm and the way you seem to always have fun out there. I just don't wanna see your teeth that often, unless you just used them to stop a slapshot. It means that you're in the big leagues now. When the team is losing like it is now, you need to show that it's affecting you. You need to play like you're fucking pissed. A little fucker like Ference is in your face? Drop him like the sack of shit that he is. Brad Marchand keeps yapping? A nice crosscheck in the kidneys will do the trick.

Your teammates are watching your every move. You're Mr. Popular. They're wondering why you and Carey always get the biggest cheers. Show them why. Because you're a bad motherfucker. No more smiles during losses. No more turtling to avoid a penalty. Besides, I've seen you without a shirt on. You're a beast. When the equipment manager asks you which one is your stick, the answer should always be : the one with Bad Motherfucker written on it.

I know this may seem harsh, but you can handle it. You're not a rookie anymore. We're asking you to grow up a little faster than usual. We're also asking you to do it with a bunch of morons running the team. But they're not the ones we pay to see. You are. They're not the ones that we all talk about the next day. You are. They're not the ones who get all the glory when we win. You are. You were meant to play here. Your talent and personality would be wasted anywhere else.

So roll up your sleeves and earn that huge contract we all want you to sign this summer. Just don't take us for granted. And try not to spit on people when 73 cameras are on you. Just sayin'.