hungover

death by Staal.

Okay, I get the idea here.
We are a place that writes about hockey in clever ways. We are supposed to be able to endorse ourselves and our own ideas.
We are to drink whiskey and eat Tostitos Lime and never let our opponents or friends see us sweat it.
Well.
Can I just say that I can no longer in good faith support the Staal Brother’s Drinking Game?
Remain innocent. Keep that childlike wonder.  Just say no.

However, here at PH, we can not turn down an offer. And when a person in a bar says “Hey, we could be playing the SBDG!” and you have to explain that you invented it, and that person then wants to buy you a drink and talk about it, you simply agree.

“We all went in with certain expectations. The evening took a nasty left turn. Now we must face certain facts in the cold light of day.”

 
Do you see my dignity anywhere up there, Jordy?
Call it down for me real quick.

Oh dear god.
Losing my Fleury Flakes again brb.

Hopefully Mister Staal will be okay after Mike Rupp’s little episode of forgetting his place in life. Or perhaps episode of remembering his place in life currently and becoming enraged. There were more weird photos of Jordy laying on the ice than of any of the goals that happened in the game.

Thanks, media.

Speaking of goals, however, this happened:

Which was pretty awesome.
I also find it absolutely shameful that while in a bar in Pittsburgh I got weird looks for screaming when this goal happened.
I need to start going to a different bar.
Scratch that.
I am officially renouncing alcohol. For a while.

Ugh.
Well, we’re never losing again at least.
I am going to go somewhere with less light now.
Go Pens. 

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