Dallas Stars: Case of Missing Identity

The Dallas Stars of this October are a far cry from the team that has lead the league in scoring for multiple seasons. Something’s gotta give- but what’s going on?

Your office is cloaked in shadow and the only background noise is the occasional, distant clap of thunder and the hum of engines as cars pass outside on the lamp-lit streets. Everyone else has gone home for the day, but not you. You smell a mystery waiting to be solved.

The shadows dissipate momentarily as you strike a match, for no apparent reason, against your circa 1941 desk. Despite the dim light, your surroundings are, of course, still in black and white.

Then, the door to your office swings open and a group of several men enters your office, a few of them shaking the spare raindrops off their fedoras and clutching them in both hands anxiously.

You use the match (which miraculously has still not burned out) to light the spare cigar you happen to keep sitting on your desk at all times and ask casually, “What can I do for you, fellas?”

Before you stands the Dallas Stars. They’ve lost something of grave importance and you, yes you, are the only one they trust to help return it to them again. What is this matter of life and death? The case that you were unknowingly waiting for, alone in your office, in the darkest recesses of this perilous night, to solve?

It is the grim case of the Dallas Stars’ misplaced identity. They had it at the end of last season and tucked it away securely for safe-keeping during the offseason in a location impervious to theft. Now, at the end of October, on this windy, ominous, shadowy night, the Stars have become sure of the one thing they dreaded the most: they are not themselves anymore.

Who they have become, they are not sure, but they fear the worst; foul play may be afoot. Will they ever be able to return to their old selves and find their lost identity? Can you help them?

The old leather desk chair creaks in that tense, uneasy way that chairs older than you often do as you sink down into it and stare gloomily out the rain-marbled window and into the night. How better to ponder the complexities of this troubling case? In doosies like this one, the answers are usually right under your nose.

So you check. But the only thing you find there is your mouth. It was a good place to start, though. Time for a different approach.

You ask several questions to help you gather your preliminary clues: what evidence do these Dallas Stars have that the identity has indeed been stolen? Are there any culprits they suspect?

One of them tosses a well-yellowed file folder onto your desk, which lands perfectly in front of you, open. As you take in the details of the Stars’ current 3-4-1 record and the more harrowing details of their most recent losses,  you see similarities to a ghost of the Dallas Stars past, a case that has been closed for some time now. This realization spurs your next line of questioning.

Have the Stars been in similar straits before? When their identity had been compromised in previous seasons, what did they have to do to see it returned to them?

After some careful thought and pensive floor-staring, the Stars admit that they had lost their identity, most notably, one time before: way back at the end of the 14-15 season. Plagued by loss after loss, they just couldn’t keep up with the expectations they’d set for themselves during that end-of-season push. They experienced brief pockets of success, marred by gutting losses when it seemed to count the most.  They turned into something very much not themselves, and the consequences were steep.

You can tell that these memories are especially traumatic, so you push that topic no further. You don’t need to; you already have your answer. You slap the file folder closed and rise from your chair as lightning illuminates the window behind you for a brief moment, and the grumble of thunder fills the room. As it dies, you say in your lowest, and simultaneously most whispery voice possible, “I have solved your case. Your identity, gentlemen, was never stolen.”

The Dallas Stars gasp. How can this be?

“When you locked it away for safe keeping at the end of last season, your team environment began to change, and unbeknownst to you, so did your identity. It was never misplaced or stolen- it has been changing just as you have been changing. The thing you are beholding now is not an imposter- it is in fact your interim identity.”

“No!” The Stars shriek as one. “How can we live with ourselves, if this is the team we have become?”

“This is a delicate matter- it will not do to be too harsh with yourselves.” You grind the end of the cigar which you have neglected to smoke at all into the ash tray that until now, no one had noticed sitting on your desk. “You will grow and evolve and in time, this identity will fit you as you learn to overcome the obstacles which bring to light the ugliest sides of your current state. Your identity is still raw. You must polish it before it will shine.”

Clearly, this was not the answer the Stars had been so desperately seeking. But from the years of experience you’ve racked up in your sleuthing days, you know it to be the truth. There are some supposed crimes that only time can unravel and make right.

Next: Dallas Stars Continue Riding Roller Coaster of Inconsistency

“Look at it this way, boys.” You wink as you pull the chain on your green-shaded (or what would be green-shaded if you weren’t currently in black and white) banker’s lamp that also seems to have appeared on your desk out of nowhere. “The timing is perfect. Find a way to physically represent your disturbing record and the monstrous season you’ve embarked on, and you’ve got the perfect Halloween costume.”
Thunder cracks and rumbles the window panes once more, and you and the Stars both stare at each other for a moment, wondering who is scripted to exit first.