All of the jokes have been made, so just pick your favorite and insert it here.
Every game we play against the Flyers is a chance to get revenge for the PTSD living there imparted upon me.
Also, I should stop doing intros last, because I am always too drunk by this time to care.
Text text text text.
Onto the awards!
(This post is like the Memento of sobriety.)
There's a lot of stuff going on in this game for a long ass time, but nothing that REALLY MATTERS.
Some chances get close for both teams. The arena is largely quiet.
You start wondering how much a half hog would be, and if you have enough freezer space for one. Would you get sausage or ground pork?
HOCKEY IS HAPPENING
WHAT THE SHIT
SMARTEST KID IN THE CLASS
You're still hyperventilating over that last goal-
what, between all of that trash talk you did yesterday with your childhood best friend
and that bet you made with this guy
your pride, wallet, and kneecaps really couldn't take a loss – Kunitz is all "I got your back, bro!" and steps in with a quick answer.
He's not just the teacher's pet - we hear he's totally banging her.
MOMENT[S] YOU CRIED
Something terrible happens.
Well, three terrible things. Three goals.
Let us try to find a picture.
This is some bullshit.
Heading into first intermission 1-4 with the Flyers, in a long string of games where we are allowing SO MANY GOALS you have to shake your head and look to your friend/spouse/significant other/cat/mirror and get real.
You spill your feelings.
Our D sucks. Like. Hard.
MAF has been spotty.
Vokoun has been weak.
We may have to ditch some guys that you deeply love if things don't get better asap.
YOU DON'T LIKE SAYING THESE THINGS BUT NOW THEY HAVE BEEN SAID.
Next, of course, it was time to turn to what could make you feel better and discuss what vices you'd be indulging in for the rest of the evening.
We're bad with coping. So sue us.
(P.S. Don't sue us.)
We wonder if pretending that we don't think we can stage a comeback will protect our feelings from getting hurt even more.
But we can't imagine a world where we don't assume that the Pens will win.
We can't really break this down into individual awards, because the third period was unreal.
Also, because the increased alcohol intake made it hard to follow.
All we know is this – as shitty as the first period was for us, the second period is for Philadelphia.
And listen, Philly.
You have Paesano's and Franklin Mortgage & Investment Co.(a killer speakeasy.)
And those things, along with some small other culinary delights, are wonderful.
But all in all, fuck ya'all. Your team is garbage, your people are disgruntled, rude, and generally moronic. Your public transit smells like piss. You keep trying to pretend like the Eagles exist.
YOU ARE LARGELY WORTHLESS.
We will almost always be happy when you are sad.
So when we get our shit together in the second period and take it the fuck to you, it's dry eyes over here, friends.
Somehow, some magical way, we go into second intermission tied 4-4.
Fear/depression drinking quickly became celebratory/nervous drinking.
We'll take it.
MOMENT GOD STIRRED IN HIS GRAVE
When, in the third, all that good luck boozin' paid off and Kunitz banged the teacher again.
Oh, and then the Flyers pretended to score but the refs were like LOL NO SORRY P.S. ORANGE ISN'T ANYONE'S COLOR.
Oh, and then we win.
5-4 PENS WIN
SUCK IT, PHILLY
Srsly, coached the shit out of those boys,
MOST LOYAL PITTSBURGH FAN
Max Talbot still owns his house in PGH.
Is he dreaming of the future?
Only if you take the gumball machine prize you're worth as a salary, dude.
ALT THREE STARS
1. TK- Put the love back in their hearts, boy.
2. Kunitz – Greatest. Looks amazing.
3. BoBo – Zoe had a nightmare that he got traded. She's never going to sleep again.
Dance the night away and tweet it into the faces of every single person you know in Philadelphia.
Try to forget how many goals we're allowing.
Sleep it off.
We'll worry about it later.