(Ed. note / full disclosure: this article has also appeared in abridged form at SBNation Penguins blog PensBurgh and in full form at TNABACG.)

For the past three months, no update on the Minnesota Wild has made it into print, no opinion has passed a Wild commentator's lips, no thought has crossed a beat writer's mind without including at least a passing reference to a single issue: what's the status of the Marian Gaborik negotiations?

Though neither side has said so yet, the issue is easy to see: Gaborik, who will be an unrestricted free agent after this season, has the Wild over a barrel - and he knows it.

Gaborik is the only star in team history. He's the guy who wears the number that also adorns the backs of fans from age two to eighty-two at the Xcel Energy Center. He's the player that makes people nationwide take notice, he's the lone gunman filling up the statsheet, he's the only player on the Wild that outshines the team's coach - and he did it by being the only one to break out of Jacques Lemaire's defense-first system.

Keep in mind that this is a team that's sold out every home game in franchise history. The Wild have played seven NHL seasons, have won a grand total of two playoff series, got bounced in the Western quarterfinals last year by the lower-seeded Colorado Avalanche - and still had people camping out on Tuesday to be first in line to buy single-game tickets on Saturday. Wild merchandise lines the streets of St. Paul. The team televises virtually every game, home and away, the local ratings for which dwarf basketball and approach those of baseball.

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We've all had a night to digest the game, and we wake up this morning knowing that we now face six months without baseball.  It'd only be courteous of us to ask how you're doing.

Me, I'm still swinging wildly between "burning with rage" and "crushed with disappointment," but I suppose that'll fade soon.

How about you?

It's either this or kick the furniture. (I choose kicking the furniture.)

Unbelievable.  It's just - what a game.  What a game.

I was excited enough to wrench my back during the celebration - a rookie move, I guess.  One has to practice these celebrations to get them right.  For example, I submit the below picture; notice how veteran Mike Redmond displays the correct hand placement during the celebratory melee, while rookie Randy Ruiz makes the mistake of the inexperienced.

Randy, just a note: You're doing it wrong.

"Go crazy, folks! Go crazy!"

(ring)

-Dude!

-I know!  Can you believe it?

-A half game.

-A half game!

-How is this possible?

-I know it, man - four innings!  From this bullpen!  That's like 45 straight scoreless innings from a regular bullpen!

-Yeah, Breslow went 1-2-3.  Bonser went...

-Right, Bonser gave up one hit.  So 1-2-3...4.

-No kidding, this Mijares kid, where'd he come from?  It's basically a playoff game and Gardy - can you believe Gardy actually went to him, instead of one of his precious "veterans"? - and Gardy puts this kid from nowhere in, with a one-run lead, against Jim Thome.

-Yeah, then Paul Konerko.  And then Ken Griffey Jr!  Disaster, right?  No. Fly ball, ground ball, ground ball.

-That's three guys right there that weren't in the bullpen at the start of the year.  Throw in Neshek, throw in Bass, Guerrier, Reyes, Crain - other than Nathan, the entire bullpen is pretty much useless.  And we throw a waiver pickup, a failed starter, and a kid who's pitched like six innings in his life out there, and they get nine outs!

-Oh, Gomez!

-I know, how'd he get there?  The guy had to run a block and a half to get to that ball!

-No, I don't think so.

-No, Torii wouldn't have got there.

-Yeah, he probably would have dived, missed by four feet, and kicked the ball into the left-field corner for an inside-the-park home run.

-Yeah.  Unbelieveable.

-A half game.

-A half game!

-What's that?

-Oh, yeah, I'm at the hospital too.  Doc says it was just a minor heart attack this time.

-Sorry, man, I know that's like your fifth heart issue this week.

-Are you kidding? Of course I'm ready to go tomorrow night!  That degree on the doc's wall don't mean he can run my life.