this is what champions do

. . .Beat the teams they're supposed to beat.
Score goals as a team.
Give the home crowd something to cheer about.
It's uncanny, really. Not that there won't be hard nights, and not that watching another team (certainly an inoffensive one) end up so clearly outmatched isn't a little sad.
But, like the retarded announcers on Versus said sometime in the third period, this is just what champions do.
No frills. It just kind of happens.

Therefore, with a respectably small amount of fanfare, we proceed to the awards:

MOST EXCITED TO GET STARTED
Right off the bat, the game is fast-paced and nasty. People are skating into each other like they don't even notice what is going on. After some fooling about, Cupcake gets the first shot on net of the contest.
Mason the save. And man, how we hate saying that when his first name isn't Steve.

Alex Goligoski is jumping up on every play trying to bury it while our Captain is one-handing pucks on net like he's running drills with himself.

Suddenly, some St. Louis player makes a good heads-up play. Puck goes in Fleury's direction. It's going high. . .
PING
CROSSBAR
Can you dig it? And, in case you needed reminding, posts don't count.
This is going to be fun.

LEAST CARED FOR ANTICS
The Pens are fucking everywhere.
Blues don't have a shot.
But Chris Mason is being good.
I mean, really, we have so much time on our hands that Eric Godard is out there making skilled defensive plays and impeding the Blues' progress through neutral ice.
Neutral ice? We have a lot of empty space there to skate! Let's skate through it, guys!

The announcers start talking about scarves and ascots. They nitpick our power play as our only less-than-perfect team feature about which they wouldn't in fact ludicrously suck at our balls. Meaning they fucking love us because we won the Cup, okay?
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Tyler Kennedy is burying it. He's not just our Fastest Man Alive anymore, nor the keeper of the ponies and the bitches. The national media is all about calling him a "skill guy." Somewhere along the line, President Kennedy became not only an energy dude, a Wilkes-Barre call-up--he became a skill guy. The Cup, as they say, changes everything.
1-0

Pens get some PP, and Malks waltzes in to help the President get some bills approved in Congress.
2-0 what
Chris Mason did not sign up for this shit.
Godard has a great chance on a rebound.
You get ready to disrobe and throw your panties on the ice. But no goal.
We're starting to get used to the barrage of awesome. Can it please stay?

LEAST TIME PROVIDED TO ADJUST TO THE NEW CONDITIONS OF YOUR EXISTENCE
Going up 2-0 should not be taken lightly, folks. The Blues come out in the second ready for blood. They want to stun us and rob our convenience stores and take our candy. They hit the double digits on the shot clock. Things are looking really exciting and awesome.
Then they take a too many men.
Ruslan beats Mason from pretty much the same distance that he got beat the other two times.
It's really 3-0 before anyone has any idea what the hell happened. And it's another PP goal. And we're golden.
Well that's a pretty big lead there, folks, don't you--
Shit.
KTang let one go from way up high. Mattie got a stick on it, much to the disappointment of the men in attendance, but hey--nice redirect, Matthew, sir.
4-0.
The Blues collapsed.
Whoops on their part.

THE MOMENT THAT DIDN'T EVEN QUITE MATTER
The second period just keeps on rolling.
Billy G is getting cocky in his constant denial to indulge PH staff in a threesome and tries to score/assist in several sexy ways.
Then, it happens.
Pile in front of Fleury. He's down. Puck squirts out to the point, Paul Kariya roofs it. No shutout.
BUT OH WELLS 4-1 IS STILL SAFE RIGHT (MAYBE)?!?!?!

MOMENT THAT TOTALLY MATTERED AND FUCKING RUINED YOUR EVENING
We suddenly learn that Gonch is missing and will not return.
The last thing we need is another long winter without Sarge.
(butthenagainwouldn'tcompoundedadversitymakenextyear'splayoffsallthemoresweetanddelicious?)
Word on the street is a broken wrist.
We don't want to talk about it yet.
More news as it gets to us.

MOST FOREGONE CONCLUSION
To start the third, everyone stands tall.
It's almost like a real hockey game--shots are 12-8, nobody dies, and the world goes on as normal.
Fleury, saving your life.

We've been so busy falling in love with McKee, by the by, that we forgot about his defense partner. Gogo tries to steal back some of the attention by scoring, but we don't know whose act to buy. Who the fuck cares, it's 5-1 and young Alex is earning his pay.

By the end of the third, Cappy and Danny know what's up.
No need to be fancy. Like true aristocrats, we have no need for foolish things.

PENS WIN
5-1
WHOOOOOOOOOOSH

INDIVIDUAL AWARDS

HARDEST LIFE
Chris Mason

MOST PRECIOUS NAMESAKE
Andy Murray ain't no Andrew Murray but we'll take it.

ALTERNATIVE THREE STARS
1. JStaal -
Big Time Player. Didn't score a goal but he was fucking everywhree.

2. Eric Godard - +1, over 7:40 of ice time. Good boy.

3. Conks because he won't be in the Winter Classic this year.

Good to know, good to feel.
GO PENS.