We've already established that we have so little to care about until free agency happens, basically.
However, tomorrow night is still an important night in hockey. While we will not be adversely affected by anything that happens until July 1, we still kind of know what would be good for hockey, and that would be for the Flyers to force 7.
If this idea annoys you, just don't be a homer:

• The Flyers are the underdogs in this series--you have to love seeing underdogs pull it out a little bit, even if they don't ultimately win.
  
• If the Pens can't be winning, we want the hockey to be exciting. There's nothing interesting about watching a team other than our team pull out to a 4-0 lead and coast to victory.
  
• If Chicago wins in 7, good for their fans in the arena! Wooo!
  
• If Philadelphia wins in 7, the hockey gods will have an aneurysm at two teams two years in a row winning Game 7 for the Cup on the road. And it's probably that sort of whack in the balls that the league needs to usher out trap-minded teams and coaches and encourage teams to USE their talent and get adventurous. Philadelphia, a 7 seed, would not be where they are without some serious balls. Admit it.
  
• Neither team has been more classless than the other. There is a serious douche contingent on both teams. This is not an easy case of "good" versus "evil", or rooting for a lesser evil. It basically comes down to choosing which variety of douche you prefer on the side. Do you like the cocksure assholery and grease stains of the modern day Blackhawks, or the shameless menagerie of bitching and shit-sucking that is the 2009-2010 Philadelphia Flyers? It's like choosing between bacterial and viral conjunctivitis. Whatever.
  
• In the event of a Game 7 we'll probably write some kind of NBC-oriented drinking game, and you KNOW you want us to come up with another drinking game.

In other news:
1. The Pronger-in-a-dress thing that everyone is LOLing about on Twitter and Facebook really isn't that interesting or funny. Get over it. We really wouldn't be surprised if Pronger did dress in drag in his spare time, though. He'd make an intimidating lady.
2. No pics from recent press conferences or whatever on our favorite press photography website means they didn't happen.
3. Pudding to start for Philly tomorrow night.

Creamy.

Nothing else. Everyone is an asshole. We don't care.
Re-sign Mark Eaton or something and at least give Jordan Leopold our numbers so he can text us and we can invite him to picnics.
GO PENS.

Tonight was the first game of the Cup Finals that didn't make us want to kill ourselves. Just all kinds of good action, and the right kinds at the right moments.
The Blackhawks really showed their douche tonight. Here are the Blackhawks who did wrong things:
Andrew Ladd (played for Burish, took some penalty)
Patrick Kane (still hasn't showed up to the series from his date with some seventh grader with blonde-and-pink extensions; word on the street is they're playing laser tag)


Dustin Byfuglien (purportedly missing but we can't believe something that fat could get lost)
Duncan Keith (we love you Duncan but really?)
Antti Niemi (obviously failed to access Leighton's secret Broad Street pudding bunker)
Marian Hossa (he apparently played over 18 minutes. We didn't notice)

Pronger update:

Based on his recent sass to the press, we've determined that he wants to have sex with himself in a pile of shit.
In front of a mirror.
example video from yesterday's press conference here
that man is in love with his own diarrhea.
holy balls.


Jeff Carter heard you all wanted to have sex with him, so he tried to deliver by outworking Duncan at the Flyers blueline.
Ladies, open those legs.
Niemi style.

The series is now a best of three.


If Adam Burish and his dongballoons have anything to say about it, it's going to be wild.

blah blah blah
GO PENS.

oh wait
Reiteration: Patrick Kane was a Belegosting MINUS FOUR.
sooo much fail

GO PENS.

As I was watching the horror unfold last night, I came upon this solid gold image:

Immediately, I knew that horse and goat were doing an interpretive dance representing the playoffs relationship between Kaner and Big Buff.

Confirmed:

Press realized they had a gem of a story in their laps when they read Byfuglien's stat sheet and said, "NO WAI" to his listed weight of 257.   That's what it takes for the press to get all into it.  257.

Up first is the kind of article that would make even Beth Ditto squirm.  And it was linked to the front page of MSN, so America, Hockey.  Hockey, America.

How fat am I, sir?  Really?

"You are probably going to ask me until I'm done playing," Byfuglien said. "Maybe you'll still ask about my weight then. It's going to be an issue I'll have to deal with."  Awww.  Orca fat.

Writer calls Buff "sturdy" and Patty Kane skirts the whole issue like a pro. Beautiful.

The only one dealing with this important issue in a constructive manner is none other than semi-official Blackhawk mascot and famous sort of fat dude, Vince Vaugh.

Soothing Dustin's insecurity one bite at a time.

Vince's solution?  FEED HIM. And his lady.  Vaugh's out on the town, looks over to see Byfuglien gorging himself, and picks up the tab.  It's sushi so it's healthy?  Please consult with Coach before you do this again, Vince.  And do not feed Eager, he's looking "sturdy", too.

It has been a weekend of drinking, smoking, and cavorting.
Some of us alone, some of us with friends, many of us in the humid, sunshiny world that is southwestern Pennsylvania without playoff hockey, many of us in other, more glamorous locales entirely.
Whatever.
All we know is, Chicago's game winner was scored by Tomas Belegosting Kopecky, and the Cup Final changes everything.
What happens in Game 2 is totally up for grabs still.

some hastily prepared notes:

whatever guys, nothing can save the fact that Kaner's mouthguard looks like a slug of gelatinous, dripping mucous in this picture.

also check out the smile on Captain Elbow:

We're considering making Captain Elbow the PH mascot these playoffs, in honor of The Hat:

remember The Hat?
Someone please tell us you remember the hat.

Plus we still find this photo mysteriously inspirational.

Without Penguins hockey, batshit crazy happens. Sorry you have to suffer with us.
Keep the faith that there is good in the universe.
Or something.
GO PENS.

Oh and late edit, Pronger is also a dick to the media. Surprise.

Puck drops for the SCF in Chicago tonight. Jesus.
It's going to be a shitshow. Chelsea Dagger will be begging to be unleashed. Chicagoans will feel that this is their first chance in a long time to do anything meaningful in sports (the NBA in the 90's feels like a dream, doesn't it?).
But we're hockey fans. The Stanley Cup is the most resonant of sports championships. Bitches wish they could touch this.
And Chicago and Philadelphia will start leering lecherously at it tonight. We're not saying we authorized this. Just that it will be a moment to savor, whether for its utter absurdity and your burning rage, or for its excitement.

The photographers that so brought us practice-time joy in the national media are in Illinois right now, and Patrick Sharp looks to Curry:



Mike Richards is focusing on something at middle distance that we think might be somebody's crotch.

We've noticed a strange amount of forbidden sexual energy being directed at Mr. Jeff Carter lately. He might be the hero you never knew you had, or it might have something to do with Uranus entering Aries or whatever.



Pudding doing his best to look like a champion (and failing).
Maybe Dustin will eat his pudding supply and put an end to everything:

Unless he eats Kaner first, which would really solve most of our problems.


What's that Richie? Dehydrated from all of your lascivious staring?
At least Pronger has his mind right:

Can you tell?


Don't fret, Duncan, baby. You're obviously invited to all of the picnics when this is over. We'll bring some soft foods for you.

Feel free to request any more picspam.
Someone will win this game tonight, which is a horrifying enough prospect. We won't dump any more feelings on you.
Every man for himself. Hang onto your juice boxes.

We know which team is the only team that matters. These other fools are just pretending.
GO PENS.

Puck Daddy and the Post-Gazette have the Pens/Caps Winter Classic set for Heinz Field this coming New Year's Day.

We said our peace about this shit already way back in March.

Oh NHL. Whatever.
Cup Finals on Saturday.
This ad campaign is actually pretty cool and features Billy G being a child with a pretty incredible skeez-beard:


GO PENS.

Everyone has their reasons for picking who they've picked in the Cup Finals this year.
Of course, it'll all probably turn into a shitshow once the puck drops at 8PM EST in Chicago. If the NHL playoffs have a way to bring people to extremes, the Stanley Cup Finals can do that tenfold. A lot could happen. The Flyers could revert to their old tactics, getting frustrated and taking bad penalties and allowing the Hawks' speed and offense to overwhelm them. The Hawks could snap under the pressure and start showing their youth and inexperience. Somebody's personality is going to come to the forefront. Last season with the Pens we notably saw Malkin, Staal, and Talbot really come into their own. The NHL's "History Will Be Made" ad campaign is pretty mindless, but every good SCF will have a hero, and every good Stanley Cup-winning team will have a story and a whole cavalcade of heroes dating back through each playoff series.

Last season, we remembered almost every Pens game--regular season and playoffs--like episodes of some awesome dramatic HBO-caliber TV series.  There are undoubtedly Hawks and Flyers fans who feel that way this season. We don't understand because we didn't follow the Hawks or the Flyers individually, but we salute these people. They're the diehards. They'll be the ones crying in the puddles of champagne ready to riot the Chicago/Philadelphia equivalent of Carson Street. They have the show of a lifetime coming up. You kind of have to be excited for the men and women who will be clawing deliriously at the big screen TV when their captain hoists the Cup. We were those people. We're not ashamed. We're emotionally invested. And just because some people in the world haven't seen the Light and moved to Pittsburgh doesn't mean we don't respect that emotional investment in fans of other franchises.

In short, it's called having perspective. Considering the way that the Penguins reign over our emotions, we consider this a good thing to have. It's the main reason we can't buy into the whole "BUT IT'S THE BelegostING FLYERS" thing. The Pens-Flyers rivalry is a healthy one based in joyful shenanigans like beating the shit out of each other and trash-talking. They are two teams born to hate each other, which has a charming comic-book sensibility about it. At least they're not the Red Wings. At least they're not Swedish.
Hearts will be broken this series either way.
We can't wait to see whose blood, sweat, and tears all go for naught this year. It'll be Belegostin' hot.
All we're saying is that if you bring the hate, bring it with perspective. Blind hatred of franchises makes sense if you're a Pens fan and a Pittsburgh fan. But if you're a hockey fan you have to appreciate what's going to happen over the next couple weeks.
And if the Wach explodes during Game 3 or something, well, we won't tell the cops you said anything.

The fact remains that we don't know what's going to happen. If you'd have told us after Game 2 in Detroit last season that Max Talbot would score 2 goals, including the game-winner, in Game 7, we would have totally believed you, but we would have been drunk on hope and irrationality and still would have shit ourselves when it actually happened. For Detroit the guys who really stepped up were dudes like Helm, Abdelkader, and Ericsson, which they wouldn't have believed earlier in the season, either, most likely. Whose badassery will pay off for his team? Here are our picks in the early going:

POSSIBLE HEROES THIS SCF

Duncan Keith's mouth


Chris Pronger's elbow


The icing that comprises Dustin's fat fat fat soul


Jeff Carter's skeeziness


Kris Versteeg's modelesque beauty


The gap left in stead of Dan Carcillo's front teeth

Who do you think the next hero will be?
I mean except the grease emanating from Patrick Kane's face.
Leave your vote in the comments.
If it's something wildly unlikely and you end up being correct we might send you a present.

People who are already talking offseason business with the Pens need to sit tight and wait for shit to get pertinent.
Re-sign Matt Cooke. And shit. Whatever. It won't hit us til the trade deadline anyway.

GO PENS.