Jackson Blake - the little dude who could. Man’s got possession numbers that make the rest of the NHL look like they’re playing with pool noodles instead of sticks. Gonna make his dad Jason Blake look like the tutorial level compared to the final boss.
Built in a lab specifically to be a Hurricane. Rod took one look at this kid and was like “put him with Aho and Jarvis immediately” and all he’s done since is treat the puck like it’s attached to his stick with industrial-strength super glue. Only leaves his possession when he decides it’s time for someone else to score.
Watching Blake on the forecheck is like watching a mosquito at a summer cookout - annoying as hell, impossible to get rid of, and somehow always finds a way to get what he wants despite being the smallest thing around.
Give this kid a few more summers with Rod and Billy’s strength program and he’s gonna turn those legs into such tree trunks that Martin St. Louis will be asking for his workout routine. By next season we’re gonna need new rink boards because the current ones can’t handle the physics of his edge work.
Tulsky’s sitting in his office watching Blake’s development like “all according to plan” while the rest of the league is wondering how we keep finding these guys. Just wait until his boating license instructor, the one and only Taylor Hall, sees him stick handle through the no-wake zone.
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