Is the word they whisper low.
Oh yeah, PH just dropped a Roy Orbison reference.
Shit just got fucking real.
This game was also fucking real.
Without like half of our defensemen, the Pens let in the Boston Bruins, who have points in like every single game they've played ever apparently and no one can touch their Holy Selves. They have a man named Zdeno Chara, who purportedly has a "long stick."
They also have Tim Thomas.
They are also probably going to be dicks.
We are here to present you with several exclusive reports tonight, entitled:
BEING A DICK: ITS MEANING, AND ITS CURE
Lesson 1: something we're very familiar with by now: doing something dumb and getting a goal taken away
The Boston Bruins had this happen to them tonight and normally it would be a big to-do, a moment to be remembered, but not really. Everything went on as normal after Chris Kelly impeded Fleury from making a save. No one really cared what was going on, apparently, though we sure as hell tried.
Jordan Staal in a shield. Unreal.
Dupuis then pursued the puck, got a weird holding call for touching Chara, but that usually happens when you reach your hand out and do something so okay.
Unfortunately it's all downhill from there, since we kill the penalty, can't beat Thomas next time we try, and then Simon Despres does something and we really can't keep concentrating our efforts since we are yet again on the PK.
We see mere flashes of greatness. Crosby getting hit with a pass by Bortuzzo of all people and almost taking over the world.
Kennedy is even getting shots off for Pony Nation.
We should have rewritten the path this game was taking, but we were too busy spinning our heads around looking at those "big bodies" and "long sticks" that we didn't get a chance to pick up the pen.
We obeyed the horn.
Lesson summary: Dudes flop everywhere and act like dicks and sometimes nothing happens, even with a potentially dramatic moment that should have geared you up for success. But you are nothing. You are insignificant chunk of DNA in the great, spinning universe.
Crosby is despondent at intermission and we can't tell how much gross is on his hat.
Lesson 2: trying really hard and having weird shit happen to you instead
The Pens and Bruins both came out with chances to start the 2nd, but the Pens fall victim to a fluky goal on which Fleury lost his post and Gregory Campbell didn't give up on the puck even though Adams was destroying his will to live. Welp.
So it's 1-1.
In this brilliant situation, Brad Marchand decides to slewfoot Matt Niskanen.
Niskanen's rage permeates the space-time continuum, causing serial murder in many decades, on many planets.
This picture doesn't display at all anything like the hatred of that fight, but okay journalism. See, it looks like Marchand won that fight. Strange, huh?
A slewfoot is a match penalty but it doesn't seem like anyone is assessed that anymore. CURIOUS.
I mean speaking of major dick moves by the NHL. . .which we'll tackle later on.
Anyway, Marchand did get 2 for "tripping."
And then Chara interferes with someone, setting up a very long 5-on-3. But of course, very little happens. Anytime we get a chance, Thomas is all over it. Not to mention that we aren't being aggressive on the Bruins penalty killers at all. Just kind of standing around and letting them stand around in the world's tiniest little chess match.
The Bruins even get a shorthanded 2-on-0 somehow. Fleury broke it up. Mysteries.
As the Consol Energy Crowd magically musters an audible, rumbling LET'S GO PENS chant, Benoit Pouliot shows up and scores yet another goal.
THAT WAS EASY!!!!
Matt Cooke takes a shot off the hand, and the world might end, but then doesn't quite.
The Pens blow another 2-minute 5-on-3.
At this point you were probably checking Twitter and reading about the division realignment and identifying this as an event that just must simply be chucked into the Void of Dicks.
Lesson Summary: Acceptance of Dicks is the only way to attempt to conquer Dicks.
Lesson 3: Occasionally, there is hope.
Bruins walk out and tell Tyler Seguin he should probably score a goal, or else become victim to barbaric hazing rituals. He does.
Crosby and Kunitz have a bizarre collision at center ice and Crosby acts like his entire body has died and it looks like doomsday. But he comes back. And doesn't do much. Starting to get the sensation that Crosby hates Boston, that he would join us in burning it with a boatload of thermite.
Malkin is, shortly thereafter, attacked by Paille's face mask. It became sentient and drove Paille to destructive head-butting via telekinesis.
After some big-time save by Thomas, the Pens get back on a rush and Joe Vitale lays it on a platter for Matt Cooke. Yeah, it was that kind of game.
Pens fans miraculously still in their seats, and the game actually seems tie-able if not winnable, right?
Joe Vitale is feeling it, as he afterwards decides to beat the shit out of Campbell. You tried to get Joe Vitale's number so you could text him and have him over for carbonara.
Moral of the story is that Joe Vitale is dreamy.
And that is where you can harness your hopes, guys.
Kennedy then tries to win the game by himself.
But the news breaks about the division alignment and it eclipses the shit,
so you're going to take that hope and stick it in your pocket until Thursday.
We took a beating.
Lesson Summary: There is no cure for Dicks. You just have to eclipse them and beat them into submission.
Pens lose, 3-1.
They made Joe Vitale the actual #3 star and that's really all we care about.
We'll explain our feelings on the big time realignment in a post before Thursday, but in the meantime, as the entire Internet noticed, we are now an all-Staal conference.
Jared Staal's rights are currently owned by the Carolina Hurricanes and he has played a whopping 13 games for the Charlotte Checkers this season (lol) so this also counts.
Images lifted from NHL.com.
Didn't resize them, because there's going to be lots of drunkenness because of us.
Also, we are dicks.
The Charlotte Checkers don't even make a shot glass.
Is the word they whisper low.