I suppose I should be somewhat excited that the Nashville Predators appear to be staying put, but I could care less.
It's a horrible business decision and, in due time, will be an albatross for the NHL.
For whatever reason, the local saviors not only bucked up $193 million, give or take, to keep the team in town but somehow persuaded the city they plan on keeping the team there for at least another five years.
If you're looking to place a wager, jump on the under.
As a gauge of the fevered pitch of local excitement over this development, it was proclaimed that "over 100" fans showed up for the much-anticipated announcement that the team had indeed been saved.
They must be missing a zero in there somewhere, or else this team is in worse shape than I originally thought.
Look, I'm trying to give Nashville the benefit of the doubt. Really, I am. Any town that can be a part-time home for Sara Evans and Carrie Underwood gets cut more than a little slack.
But it's not a hockey town.
It's a town of hot chicks, tear-jerkin' tunes, and a legendary croonin' house.
In Nashville, the die-hards believe they can get it turned around, that somehow, someway, the team will stay in banjo-picking country.
But with the moving trucks idling, the Predators still lag in the bottom third in terms of NHL attendance.
Sure, they're hovering a thousand or so above that line-drawn-in-the-sand 14,000 average, but hockey in Nashville is a lost cause.
Good luck, Music City. I've been proven wrong before, but I'm betting the Predators won't be there three years from now, let alone five.
And I'll be there saying, "I told you so," to their teary-eyed faithful.
Most of them will fit in my living room.