If I were Sidney Crosby, I would hate the NHL.

Crosby gets beat on like a piñata, but the NHL expects him to keep spitting out candy. Be the face of the game. Be the poster boy.

If I’m Crosby, I tell the NHL to call Connor McDavid next time.

Crosby got hit in the head by David Steckel. No suspension. Crosby got hit in the head by Victor Hedman. No suspension. Brandon Dubinsky cross-checked Crosby in the head. He got a mere one-game ban. Crosby got concussed playing in the NHL’s pretend Olympics.

Now, in the latest chapter, Matt Niskanen guillotines Crosby. No suspension.

This isn’t the exception. It’s the rule. Crosby keeps getting crushed, and the NHL does zero to protect him.

So the next time the NHL wants Crosby to do an interview, a commercial, an awards ceremony, or anything that’s superfluous, Crosby should tell the NHL to call McDavid. Get McDavid to do it.

Better yet, call Steckel. Or Hedman. Or Dubinsky. Or Niskanen. Four guys who couldn’t draw money if you dipped them in superglue and dragged them through a bank vault. Four non-entities who never sold a ticket.

Photo courtesy of Getty Images

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