The Iron Mike that we knew and loved is dead and buried, partially by the amount of power and guaranteed contracts that the millionaire players have, partly because he just went soft.
He's never going to coach in the NHL again, he's burned to many bridges.
This is the equivalent of a rocking chair tour, he'll stand behind the bench and glower, sign some autographs kiss some babies and utterly refuse to practice the powerplay.
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My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
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