Signs that tonight’s game will be interesting, if not a little grating:
– Stress about tomorrow is at fever pitch. We’ll spare you the speculation. It’s plentiful elsewhere and makes us want to rip our chest cavities open.
- Before puck drop, Steiggy and Bobby both have used the term “Smashville” several times. Can we not.
- PEKKARINNE is Bobby’s FedorTyutin. He’s also 51 games cold from a hip injury way-back-when, but not someone we want to underestimate. We expect him to show up in a big way for his return.
But let’s relax for a little bit and prepare ourselves emotionally for tomorrow while enjoying what will hopefully be a solid game and not the clusterfuck of crushed dreams like the past few games have been. …yaaaay!
ALSO IMPORTANT: This man became a father recently.
So I guess we have to talk about that too.
LEAST DUST GATHERED
It only takes a few minutes of fairly back-and-forth play for us to see that Renne is not suffering from his time off. Jussi tries one early and the shot is blocked and the rebound covered. Not so telling in itself, but then Sid and Kunitz get a two-on-one against Weber. Kunitz tries to get it in but Renne kicks it out with his skate, denying us the early lead and destroying our hopes and dreams much like news that this hoverboard commercial was a fraud. Seriously, why would Doc Brown lie to our fucking faces? Who can we even trust now?
TINIEST NEW TEAMMATE
The first period doesn’t boast too many shots from either team, but MAF is keeping out the ones that come his way. We sweat it a little when Bort dives after a shot from Smith but can’t block it in time and MAF is looking a little sleepy on the play, but the crossbar steps up to the plate and keeps it out. We are naming the crossbar an honorary member of the roster, mostly so lil Brian Gibbbons won’t feel so itty bitty anymore.
Bb get in my pocket you look like a hobbit.
SWEATIEST HANDFUL OF XANAX
The Preds draw first blood…or do they? Maatta blocs a right circle wrister from Spaling, then tries to beat him to the boards for it. Spaling gets there first and throws it towards the net. MAF works to keep it out but Gaustad comes crashing in and the puck skips over the line.
The play immediately goes under review but there isn’t a whole lot of conclusive video evidence of what happened, because this isn’t an event in a multi-billion dollar industry that relies on accurate reporting in a small area of a venue centering around a net.
You immediately palm a handful of the nearest prescription in your house and wait for the refs to get back to you. With the last few tragic games starting with the opposing team drawing first blood, you’re not ready for a spiral into darkness just yet. At least do it on a weekend when it’s socially acceptable to get shit faced, you guys.
When the refs declare “distinct kicking motion” you slowly funnel the now-sweat-saturated pills back into their bottle where they wait for next time.
Neal somehow manages getting off easy with 2 minutes after boarding Del Zotto from behind and with a little arm lift. He’s lucky.
Next up on the bad attitude agenda are Bort and Wilson. After Bort gifts him a stiff check at the blue line, the two of them exchange pleasantries and some blood – the owner of which is unclear.
(Jesus fucking Christ that picture makes it look like the craziest hockey fight ever. Really it was a few intense fists and nothing more. Man. Look at that. This is why our moms can’t understand why we like this game.)
The two head off for their punishments just before the advent of first intermission.
Half a minute into the second, Crosby works hard to keep the puck until he can feed it to Nisky, who gets the one-timer off the pass into the net. It’s a really pretty play from Sid, from whom you would expect nothing less, and Nisky did it justice.
Unfortunately it takes 12 seconds for Hornqvist to find a rebound from a Fisher shot and get it into our cage. This is the unfortunate side effect of a lot of open ice during a game.
MOST ON-POINT SUMMARY
Zoe somehow manages to sum up a period of hockey in the most cogent way I have ever seen. “not much to remark on…two quick goals and blah blah blah, brian gibbons and olli maatta are saving the team, bob errey had an aneurysm because paul gaustad played the puck with his butt end, that’s about it.” She’s the better of us for a reason.
MOST ACID INDUCED PLAY OF THE CENTURY
A sequence in the third drags you back to college age memories you’d rather forget, lest you not be able to fool any polygraph tests when preparing to run for office.
Nisky loses the puck in the Preds zone and it slides back to our end. MAF heads out to stop it and manages to poke it out of the grasp of a rapidly approaching Gaustad, but the two collide and everything in the universe is suddenly very confusing as the two tumble around like drunk school children. MAF gets it together and gets the puck away from Nystrom just in time, finally getting the puck back up the ice. Malkin gets the puck to Nisky who goes for a one timer, which shoots right on by Rinne because tbqh he was probably still like WHAT THE FUCK WAS ALL OF THAT.
After the goal Nisky points at MAF from the other end of the ice. The Flower looks fucking crazed. We think he may be.
LEAST LIKE THE PREVIOUS GOAL
The final goal of the game is simple and pretty and doesn’t involve anything fucking crazy or weird. Just a nice old school Crosby and Kunitz play. Sid gets the pass to Kunitz, who sends it home.
After the goal Weber spends what is apparently too much time with the officials and is given a unsportsmanlike minor and a 10 minute misconduct. What the hell that was about, we may never know.
What we do know is that this one is going down in the books for the Penguins.
INDIVIDUAL AWARDS & ALT THREE STARS PREEMPTED TO BRING YOU THIS IMPORTANT NEWS:
Several days ago, Max Talbot’s girlfriend Cynthia gave birth to Max’s first child, a boy named Jaxson.
You’ll note that I do not follow Max on twitter, largely because I cannot handle his existential musings.
The birth of Jaxson Talbot obviously caused Zoe a lot of trauma and has made her call into question her entire world view. We can’t do a lot for her right now but just be there for her in this time of need.
Ryan Whitney’s existential musings are fine by me, but I can’t follow him for fear that I’ll catch sight of whatever type of jeans he’s wearing these days *shudder*.
The worst part of all of this is that they decided to have a home birth. Not that we have anything against home births so long as you’re not some wacko claiming vaccinating your children causes autism…there’s just something really hilarious about the idea of Max being a part of anything like that.
Also, apparently the nickname he has chosen for this child is Spartacus.
Pray for Spartacus. Pray for us all.