BY GABRIEL JOHN OSTLER

If you’ve somehow missed the most recent and perfect confluence of professional hockey and popular culture, allow me to inform you of the Los Angeles Kings’ only positive contribution to the NHL season thus far.

"Oh come on, nephew." – @SnoopDogg Nothing will ever compare to Snoop Dogg doing play-by-play for the LA Kings on Hockey Night in LA. pic.twitter.com/SH527Vo2zr — LA Kings (@LAKings) January 13, 2019

Yes, that’s Long Beach’s own Calvin Broadus, aka Snoop Dogg, joining Alex Faust and Jim Fox in the booth to provide some commentary for the Kings’ tilt against the Pittsburgh Penguins this past Saturday night. Naturally, the entertainment value and fan representation that stems from one of the nation’s most recognizable stars filling this role is a priceless endorsement for the sport.

If Snoop can urge Ilya Kovalchuk to “run the weave,” it’s the least everyone in Los Angeles County can do to put their Cantonese hot brick massages specifically designed to alleviate traffic ulcers on hold for five minutes to see if the Kings can get a fucking shot on net.

That being said, it was someone who was probably even higher than Snoop’s resting tolerance point (so like, imagine a Qatarian slave-labor skyscraper on a couple of stilts) who once queried, “How can the sky be the limit if there’s footprints on the moon?”

Now that the purveyor of Gin & Juice has proven his value to all eight viewers of a primetime Saturday night Kings broadcast, it’s important that we not rest on our laurels, and instead push forward in coming up with other ways that the Doggy Dogg can make like biting into one of his fabulous gold chains and leave his mark on the ice.

Zamboni Driver

Being perfectly honest, I shouldn’t even have to type out this explanation. The mere concept of Snoop Dogg driving a Zamboni is scientifically proven to send 98% of people who know what both of those things are into fits of hysterical giggles.

But I do work with words, so: imagine Snoop in the most iconic and gangster position possible, posted up behind the wheel of a classic automobile, cruising through Compton surface streets ten miles under the speed limit, his subs shattering babies’ eardrums five blocks away, easing up to a red light and rolling down the window to let loose a billowing cloud of pot smoke. He keeps a blue flag hangin’ out his back side, but only on the left side, yeah, that’s the Crip side.

I’ll concur that it might not be the best PR move to publicly take sides in a decades-long gang war, but I’d rather the Kings be involved with that side than just keep having to deal with Tyler Toffoli being caught offside.

Anyway, now superimpose that exact image onto what’s likely the funniest vehicle to ever exist, besides maybe a golf cart adorned with Truck Nutz. Snoop spinning haphazard loops through the chipped rink surface. Maybe some hydraulics on the motherfucker? “Let Me Ride” blaring from the arena speakers practically plays itself.

The only downside is that you’re going to cut down concession sales early in intermission, as everyone will be captivated by the show, but that should correct in a big way once Snoop’s wafting herbs reach the nosebleeds. Come the third period, you’ll be selling ketchup sandwiches for $25.

Anthem Singer

Don’t get nervous. Protests motivated by racial equality are never going to materialize in the NHL until we begin to address the deep class and cultural divides that keep so many people of color from partaking in the beautiful sport, so it’ll be a long while before you have to bitch about anything other than the refs re-learning the definition of goalie interference on a game-by-game basis.

No, the true value of Snoop Dogg being your permanent anthem singer – or at least one booked on a regular basis, like Jon Stewart poking his head in on Colbert’s new show as if he’s an attention-starved gopher – is in him delivering both national songs before each contest.

Every American who attends a hockey game spends 85% of “O, Canada” hearing the recorder version of “My Heart Will Go On” echo through their heads. And it goes without saying that the U.S. anthem is in dire need of some jazzing up; Jimi Hendrix did a mildly interesting version in ’69 and was killed by government vomit for his trouble so everyone since has been too scared to blaze a new trail.

Snoop, though, is untouchable, so after a couple of his stirring renditions, not only will you think of America as “The land of the frizzle and the home of the brizzle,” but you will also realize that when it comes to Canada, we stand on guard for thee, fo’ shizzle.

Head Coach

Once we get past the ingenious marketing opportunities for Snoop Dogg in these various roles, it’s important to consider the on-ice product. All the pageantry in the world doesn’t mean shit if your hockey team flops harder than MC Ren going solo.

The Kings remain mired in the league’s cellar. John Stevens took over as boss after Darryl Sutter’s axing back in the summer of ’17, but only lasted one unmemorable season and 13 games into 2018 before ceding the job to Willie Desjardins, who also sucks. Two things are evident: Los Angeles is not afraid to turn over the coaching position, and it’s almost impossible to suggest that Snoop Dogg could do worse than the prior two options given a shot behind the bench.

Consider the clip again. Snoop already has a firm grasp of offensive movement and also realizes Dion Phaneuf’s proper place in a fight is off in a corner wetting himself because Sean Avery said something mean: “Move, Dion, get out the way!”

This is the kind of innovative communication that separates Snoop from the innumerable flabby-necked, white-haired Canadians who scored 85 goals for the Kitchener Rangers in 1972 that currently call the shots for most NHL squads. Bruce Boudreau thinks “a rap” is what Ryan Suter should call his career.

And can you imagine the motivational speeches? Pop on “Murder Was the Case” down two goals at intermission and watch Anze Kopitar realize that keeping Connor McDavid off the scoresheet is nothing compared to being shot to death, then making a literal deal with the devil in order to come back to life. That shit slaps, dawg, and I’m not talking from the blue line, either. You get what I’m gettin’ at?

I know the temptation is strong for the Kings to revel in their minutes-to-seconds of social media fame and feel as blessed to have had Snoop Dogg speaking through a headset as we were to listen to his dulcet tones while pretending that Jeff Carter doesn’t make $5.2 million a year until 2022. But you’ve simply got to strike while the iron is hot.

Snoop’s demonstrated interest in hockey can be used to both Los Angeles’ and to the sport’s overall benefit. If these simple ideas are employed, the Kings could even end up going from a stagnant and boring brand of play to doin’ it Doggystyle.