The idea of launching players out of a catapult might sound extreme, but at this point, extreme solutions feel oddly appropriate for the Detroit Red Wings.
What started as a season with promise has completely unraveled. Once again, March has proven disastrous—marking yet another “March Sadness” collapse in a frustrating pattern that now feels all too familiar. Despite multiple attempts to fix the roster and push the team forward, the same disappointing outcome keeps repeating.
Over the past few seasons, management has made several notable moves. They brought in a proven scorer in Alex DeBrincat, hired a new bench boss in Todd McLellan, and upgraded goaltending with John Gibson. At the trade deadline, they even made aggressive moves to strengthen the blue line by acquiring Justin Faulk. On paper, these changes should have made a difference.
But in reality, nothing has changed where it matters most: results.
The team continues to fall short, and patience is wearing thin. Some might argue that the blame should fall on management or coaching. Others might even suggest drastic roster moves, like trading captain Dylan Larkin. But instead of conventional solutions, let’s lean into satire: accountability via medieval engineering.
Yes—catapult exile.
It’s symbolic, of course. Fans get the satisfaction of seeing consequences for underperformance, and players get a clear message: mediocrity won’t be tolerated. No more coasting, no more empty jerseys. Either contribute, or prepare for a one-way trip courtesy of a trebuchet.
With that in mind, here are five players who—purely hypothetically—fit the bill.
Michael Rasmussen: First in line for liftoff
Michael Rasmussen stands out as a particularly frustrating case. Once a top-10 draft pick, he’s now 26 and should be firmly in his prime. Yet his offensive production has completely dried up—he hasn’t recorded a single point since early January.
While he’s been used in a defensive role and has dealt with injury, that doesn’t fully excuse the lack of impact. His play has been inconsistent, often careless, and lacking urgency. For a player expected to contribute meaningfully, this level of performance simply isn’t good enough. If anyone symbolizes stagnation, it’s Rasmussen—and that makes him an easy (and unfortunate) candidate for “departure.”
Mason Appleton: A quiet disappointment
When Mason Appleton arrived, there were already warning signs—fans from his previous team weren’t exactly upset to see him go. Now it’s clear why.
Through a full season’s workload, his offensive output has been minimal. Even accounting for his role as a defensive forward, the lack of contribution is glaring. Most of his production came early in the season, with almost nothing since. While defensive responsibility matters, it doesn’t excuse being nearly invisible offensively.
At this stage, the imbalance between what he provides and what he doesn’t is too significant to ignore.
J.T. Compher: Underwhelming returns on a big investment
J.T. Compher was brought in to solidify the second line, but instead finds himself playing reduced minutes and producing far below expectations.
With a sizable contract and modest output, the numbers paint a bleak picture. His scoring rate simply doesn’t justify the financial commitment, and with years still remaining on his deal, it’s a long-term concern. He’s neither a standout offensively nor a game-changing presence defensively—just stuck in the middle, failing to move the needle.
In a results-driven league, that’s a tough reality.
David Perron: Time may have caught up
David Perron has had a long and respectable career, but it’s becoming increasingly clear that his best days are behind him.
The physical edge and reliability he once brought are no longer there at the same level. While age is a factor, the lack of production is hard to overlook. This isn’t about frustration—it’s more about acceptance. Sometimes, stepping away at the right moment is the best move for both player and team.
Ben Chiarot: The exception to the rule
Interestingly, Ben Chiarot might be the one who stays—not because he’s consistently strong, but because he’s… entertaining.
His mistakes can be baffling, but they also bring a strange kind of levity. Every team, especially struggling ones, seems to have that one player who unintentionally becomes a source of comic relief. While his play can be frustrating, it’s at least memorable.
And in a season filled with disappointment, even that has some value.
