counting down minutes

We said we’d have a season preview for you, and, in theory, we do. We know who we’re watching out for this season, who we think you should watch out for, and who we are going to lol at for all eternity.
But here’s the thing: it’s almost not worth contemplating right now. We might get something up over the weekend, all formal, in our traditional style (i.e. something that sounds like we’ve been smoking a giant bong).
What to tell you now, when, all week, our busy lives have been dragging us to this point? What to tell you, when we’ve been through three to four cups of coffee today and can still barely achieve a sense of reality and belonging?
Through this blog, you’ve basically seen us grow up. Our schedules are a lot fuller than they were when you first met us. You can probably tell that is the case. However, we’re here when it matters, and we believe this matters.
Our hockey team is what brings us together. The game is why you’re here. Its culture is a weird pocket in the world. Stepping onto the ice has got to be the most thrilling feeling on Earth sometimes. Cold winter mornings are exciting, not depressing. Screaming til you almost puke isn’t painful–it’s fucking awesome.

Having this building is a bittersweet dream.
And let’s not forget–we’re fucking pimps.

The Flyers have crossed the great state of Pennsylvania to grace us with their presence.
The opponent doesn’t matter, but I mean. . .it actually does.
Ass-kicking time.
Happy October, ladies and gentlemen.

Go Pens.


About Zoë

from Fayette County, living in Boston, chronically fussy. Writing about the Penguins, the CWHL/women's hockey, and hockey/sports media criticism.