We all know we saw this game, because it’s the New NHL, the modern era, where the scheduling is done at the behest of advertisers and networks. We are the product. The entire city of Vancouver, the Stanley Cup runners-up with very little to show for the whole ordeal, hosting the Pittsburgh Penguins at home. When the schedule was made, there was the belief that the Penguins would roll into town with Sidney Crosby ready for the opening faceoff, returning to the building where he won the Olympic gold medal, and that’s made for TV magic right there, America and Canada. Also, the Penguins still manage to be media darlings. You’d think the world would be sick of us, and how wonderful we are. Maybe they are. We haven’t noticed yet. We’re busy.
And so the march begins. No one cares what was said, or will be said. What matters is what is done.
But we roll out red carpets here, because we don’t give a shit. What happens deserves to be celebrated and derided. If for no other reason, because it’s fun. Because the discussion and the laughter always remind us why we’re here in the first place.
Did we choose hockey, or did hockey choose us?
Deep philosophical questions better suited to 1950’s classrooms in urban Austria. We’re Aristotle over here. Plus alcohol.
A Sedin’s achievements. SNORE.
I only made it home in time to watch the game because the city of Vancouver was too busy having a dick in its mouth to drop the puck.
Perhaps this is an extreme statement. However, I’ve always found that pregame ceremonies interrupt the flow of the Game and make everyone cranky.
Still, I’m glad for the incessant fellatio tonight. I got to see puck drop. Very little else matters. Thanks, A Sedin, for your meaningless achievements.
James Neal was the Hungriest. He started the game’s true motion by flying around like his life depended on it.
He managed to successfully create a paradox within the space-time continuum via his speed, because Matt Cooke drew a penalty.
Then, James Neal scored. No one wanted you to see it. But it happened. James Neal had spent far too long ruminating on the Bullshit of last season. He wanted to get it started off right.
So right, in fact, that there is no photo.
Assists go to Malkin and Ktang, appropriately. What beauty we have wrought.
SOME MOMENTS CAN ONLY BE CAPTURED IN OUR SOULS ~~~~~~
BEST NAME FOR A THING
Pens got another powerplay because of some dicks or whatever. Suddenly, Matt Cooke swooped in and scored the pants off of everyone.
WELL WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT
We see the replay on the (get this) Jack Daniel’s Robo Cam. A robot that can see perfect replays. . .even under the influence of Tennessee whiskey. A truly fine robot that all the kids will be wanting this holiday season.
MOMENT THAT CAUSED FEWEST LUONGO TEARS
When Maxim Lapierre got lucky the way you get lucky at a scenic overlook.
2-1 Pens at this point. Fleury kicked the puck in, basically. We move on, unphased.
Fleury immediately makes a big-time redemption save that goes under review and makes the crowd buzz like so many killer bees. No goal. Letestu tries to take over the world, but it doesn’t quite go. And that was the period.
THE LAST THING YOU SAW BEFORE YOUR TELEVISION CAUGHT ON FIRE
PERIOD WITH THE MOST FEELINGS
Early in the 2nd, Malkin takes an elbowing penalty, which makes Versus talk at length about Gene’s mental fortitude. It’s like parents talking about a child when the child is in the room. It’s ~weird~ when people who actually are with the press speculate about players’ FEELINGS.
Matt Cooke sensed this, and decided to use Bieksa as a pawn in his globe-spanning chess game of domination.
Through a screen on the PK, he makes it happen.
Happiness across the lands; meanwhile our friend @devinnnc is busy retweeting every Matt Cooke hater tweet. Some seriously golden stuff therein. An overflow of Feelings.
You can feel the breakdown slowly coming when A Sedin destroys Letang with a sweet move and the Pens keep allowing looks at startlingly open nets. THIS IS THE TEAM WE KNOW AND LOVE.
There was some goal.
The period ended with it 3-2 Pens. We kind of knew how it was going to turn out. MOST ALONE
Our feelings of safety and well-being when A Sedin tied it in the third period on a delayed penalty. We screamed at the void. We heard nothing back.
We played the rest of the period and the overtime in abject fear that something would happen, that the tenuous basis of our lofty aspirations was about to fly off into the Canadian wilderness and freeze itself to death on purpose this winter.
But Kris Letang and Evgeni Malkin heard something.
They got Luongo to look the wrong way at least. Press is slow on the uptake, but the sight of the Pens leaping over the boards to celebrate a win in enemy territory isn’t going to get old anytime soon. Just imagine it. And think. Slowly.
GENE EMBARRASSED LUONGO
INDIVIDUAL AWARD: MOST WARM
Jordan Staal left the third period with dehydration, apparently.
The building was apparently quite warm this evening.
You know what’s hot?
fresh tears. Roberto Luongo is the Most Warm.
ALTERNATIVE THREE STARS 1. Henrik Sedin’s voodoo levitation magic.
2. Kris Letang – for showing up.
3. The whites of Deryk Engelland’s eyes.
It’s about to be a big weekend.
Thanks for joining us again this season. We love you.