Buffa's Buffet: 5 things on my mind

Volume #92 covers the Cards, Blues, new movies and thoughts.

There was a time when fast food places could get you in and out, as in you couldn’t restock your entire phone calendar while waiting for a microwaved double cheeseburger where they could have used epoxy to close it before packaging.

Back in the 90s, off Kingshighway, the McDonalds hummed like a naughty food bird, giving customers cheap goods on the fly. That time is gone, and it’s never coming back. What I do have today is a need to impose my will, so the buffet is open and it’s time to discuss the usual suspects. But first, let’s talk about something important and that’s Colton Parayko.

It’s a big season for the Mr. Rogers of the St. Louis Blues. The big, tall Canadian defenseman has started playing more like a fish out of water instead of a viable, high-paid blue line defender. Parayko makes $6.5 million per season to act like he’s a forward, fail to clear the front of the net, and smile like a newborn baby in postgame interviews.

I want OLD MAN LOGAN MEAN Colton. I want Chris Pronger and Tony Twist to take him up into the mountains, and sharpen the blade into a rugged, unstable human being who is capable of destroying wingers and putting a fist through the head of rival teams who get too close to Jordan Binnington. People tell me this is who he is as a player, and I think that player sucks. Overpaid, only will get worse and decline, and 50% of Blues fans will support while the other half roasts him.

With Torey Krug on the injured list during training camp and the preseason, it’s imperative for B.S.S. (Baby Shit Soft) Colton to snap into a persona that helps this team. He’s not a big goal scorer, and doesn’t unleash his big slap shot enough. A 133 shots in 79 games doesn’t make another team think you can hit the broad side of a barn, much less a small net.

Parayko is 30 years old, finishes 33rd on the Lady Byng Award ballot or worse, and accumulates 28-35 points per season. Step it up, big fella. You’re filling Alex Pietrangelo’s shoes on the ice like I would fill Tom Segura’s shoes on a stage.