During the past few days, I've developed a severe case of sailor mouth.

Sailor mouth, for those of you unfamiliar with the term, is when you start cursing like a sailor.

I can't even begin to speak of NHL "commissioner" Gary Bettman or NHL Players Association Executive Director Bob Goodenow without letting loose "f-bombs" strung together in an incoherent sentence with names intertwined. This mess has led to the season to be on the brink of cancellation.

To steal an epic analogy from "South Park," Bettman and Goodenow remind me of the battle between Giant Douche and Turd Sandwich. You can go ahead and choose which one is which. Both fit the description.

Now, if you're still reading this: Thanks for the compliment - that either means you're a huge hockey fan or you're bored. But back to business.

The players, in a big breakthrough, have decided they will agree to a salary cap after eight months of pissing on it. Well, that was sure nice of you guys to think of in three days instead of just sucking it up in December when it could have mattered.

The big argument is what the level is going to be. The players want $52 million, and the owners want $40 million. Of course, the owners rejected the offer of $52 million, which has been par for the course. Thanks for coming.

But instead of doing something productive such as bringing logic into the discussions - meeting in the middle in the $46 million range - both parties have decided to be bullheaded about the proceedings. They have left the season hanging in the balance. How something like this could continue month after month after month is beyond me.

Stupid does not even begin to describe how ludicrous this situation has become. Because of this, the Stanley Cup, the most lauded trophy in all of sports, will not be awarded for the first time since a flu epidemic wiped out the Stanley Cup Finals in 1919.

If the season is canceled, it wouldn't surprise me if hockey never returned to south Florida, Anaheim, Calif., or North Carolina.

Bettman has lost so many people and so many millions of dollars with his idiotic expansion of the league, which is still a regional sport. It's beloved in the New England arenas, the Midwest and, ugh, Colorado and Dallas. But other than that, it is not liked by most of America. I don't understand why, but that's just the way it is. I guess some people like watching 500 consecutive left turns over a fast, physical and exciting sport.

I hate Bettman and Goodenow for stripping me of "Hockey Night in Canada" every Saturday night. After I got home from the MSU-Michigan men's basketball game last Saturday, I said to myself, "Man, I wish I could watch the Leafs game right now."

But, of course, I couldn't, which made me a "sad panda."

I miss the "Hockey Night in Canada" theme. I miss Ron MacLean and Don Cherry. And I miss Bob Cole's smooth and elegant call of the game. I miss Mickey Redmond's "homerism," I miss Steve Yzerman, but most of all I miss hockey.

Thanks to Uncle Gary and Aunt Bob, this has been the worst winter ever.

Matt Bishop is a State News men's basketball reporter, but hockey is still No. 1 in his heart. He can be reached at bishop20@msu.edu.