You know, we always forget about the Blues.
We don't know why. They've been around awhile. It probably has something to do with the fact that Missouri is just a fucking unlikely place for a hockey team.
We'll say even more unlikely than Phoenix or Atlanta or SUNRISE, FLORIDA, or Tampa Bay.
It just seems so antithetical to hockey and to pro sports and we don't even understand what St. Louis is.
We ought to visit sometime.
In another universe, we might be Blues fans.
But we're not, so.
PENGUINS, STRAIGHTEN YOUR MOTHERFUCKING TIES OKAY.

MOST "OH HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN"
We experienced it all in the first period.
Jamie Langenbrunner, former Devils captain, forced to play second fiddle to fucking David Backes.
We have the Blues feed and the Blues announcers are taking every possible opportunity to accuse people of diving.
James Neal actually gets called for diving.
Fleury making unbelievable point-blank saves, a man alone in the trenches.


The Pens also get a whole lot of special teams going on but nothing really happens. But: Fleury is there, and that's what counts.

PERIOD THAT BEGAN WITH THE MOST BELIEF
Early in the 2nd, the Blues announcing team thinks it's the greatest controversy in all of sports history that a holding call drawn by Malkin wasn't accompanied by a diving call.
You think it probably doesn't matter because the Pens won't do anything on the power play anyway.
Then, somehow, Martin, who is deep on the play, makes a sick pass to Neal at the bottom of the circles with like 9 guys in his butt.
Snipejob. God lives again.

1-0

Shortly thereafter, MacIntyre steps onto the ice, takes a penalty.  Tangradi's choo-choo-training probably would have been more useful in this game, sadly.
Whole world is crashing down.
Fleury is fucking balls out on every Blues player who dares to venture near him.
Letang ices the puck out of spite on at least one occasion.
Like, LOOK I'M GOING TO ICE IT.  AND YOU'RE STILL NOT GOING TO SCORE.
Sullivan gets some nasty deflection from a point shot and then a Blues players' skate:

Earns at least 2x every goal he scores.  This one was good.


MOST NON-MARC-ANDRÉ-FLEURY BALLS IN YOUR MOUTH
Patrik Berglund mutant self-replicating balls.
First off of a huge-ass turnover.

note how you can see no one's eyes in this photograph
could it be a satanic prayer circle

MOST EVENTS CAUSE BY A SATANIC PRAYER CIRCLE
This theory at least partially proven when Vitale almost scores, and his family, in their special suites since he is from St. Louis and they want nothing more than to see him play, FREAKS THE FUCK OUT but Elliot hates joy and makes the save.
There is some penalty against the Blues and the Pens go to work, but manage to hook Berglund on a shorthanded breakaway, which leads to an instant penalty shot, and a goal, by Patrik Berglund's balls.
yup.
that's 2-2 on a SHORTHANDED PENALTY SHOT.
we're the best!

 Vitale is also stopped on some whirl-around backhander that was probably telepathically sent to him by Sidney Crosby.
by the way: Fleury, still more balls out than you will ever be.
We wish we had more photographic evidence but the press was probably too drunk.
Blues use their timeout because they want to get a better matchup for the Malkin line towards the end.  Just really simple, but somewhat cocky, use of a timeout.
Cooke then railroads Barret Jackman with an awkward shoulder check, which somehow becomes boarding, and which was probably embellished by some kind of fetal position reaction.
Have you ever seen a player with an actual head/neck injury go into the fetal position like clockwork after receiving a hit?  Really.
Not that we're homers or anything.
Except we probably are.
But it's Matt Cooke so the Pens should be expelled from the league and set on fire with lighter fluid.
 So the Pens end the game on the PK.
Start OT on the PK.
Somehow survive OT by virtue of Fleury's unbelievable work to combat the forces of evil through flexibility and sheer willpower.
His save on Vladimir Sobotka (and his hair) towards the end is what babies are made of.

But no, we're going to yet another shootout.  GOD FORBID THIS GO ON ALL NIGHT.
Berglund-Letang.  Nope.
Shattenkirk basically does the same thing as Berglund and Fleury makes a nearly identical save.
Malkin smokes Elliott.  No surprise there.
Oshie scores, too.  WELP.
James shoots his puck high and wide.
Alex Pietrangelo falls victim to Fleury's Impregnating Pokecheck.

And then we tote out the last component of our First Line, Chris Kunitz.  You might be like "why Chris Kunitz?"
because he has one move and yet no one ever looks at tape of Chris Kunitz when studying up for the big game.
 Surprise: he went five hole.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHA

It was kind of like going to Mordor, but we did it.
PENS WIN 3-2 SO
LOL

INDIVIDUAL AWARDS

MOST UNCOMFORTABLE TANGO PARTNERS

look at that face.  that is a face that says "my body is ready."  But Michalek isn't quite yet.

SECOND MOST UNCOMFORTABLE TANGO PARTNERS

Paul wasn't quite ready for Chris Stewart's advances.

ALTERNATIVE THREE STARS
1. JOE MOTHERFUCKING VITALE OH MY GOD
2. Fleury's pokecheck, because him getting the other 1st star wasn't enough.
3. James Neal.  100 goals and career high 27 goals, with 33 games left in the season. lol

so, suck on that.  pens don't play until after ASG when they play Toronto

BONUS SECRET MOMENT OF THE GAME
When Brent Johnson congratulated Fleury with epic laughter and was all smiles at MAF's achievement.
Start him against Toronto. Get him his confidence back.

go pens 

I watched this game in Plymouth, Mass. in a house full of Pats fans, and thus segued immediately from Pens/Caps into football, which apparently throws off my whole recapping reflex because even though I still believe that football is the Inferior Sport, that was a pretty fucking LOLtacular display of playoff football.
ANYWAY, DID YOU KNOW (A FORMAL LIST:
Kris Letang's hair still causes wet panties in every state across the Union, even where prohibited by law. We're not saying OUR wet panties, necessarily. Just occasional wet panties.
And I mean was that a sweet goal from the blueline or what. Commence moaning.


Alexander Ovechkin once looked at a tea cake this way. The tea cake was unavailable for comment and has been reported as seen running the streets of DC missing most of its icing.

We still look behind the Caps bench and are like OH WHAT IS THAT OH HI DALE. Bruce is missed and not missed at the same time.


The jury has been out for quite some time on Matt Niskanen's hair situation. If you look closely, you can see why.



The Caps can play games all they want, but we know their true colors. Ovechkin's game-tying goal ultimately meaningless.


Alex Semin scores like 2 goals against the Pens in his lifetime. Whatever.


Malkin setting up Neal for the game-tying goal is what religion is made of. Excuse us while we rub the savior on us. JAMES CALL US. GENE, ALSO CALL US.


TIME MAGAZINE COVER SHOT

Neal hanging out up high, above the circles. Shot. End boards. Gene. Gene always knows what to do. Always.


We live in a world in which there is love.
We wish Knuble would have scored more (i.e. instead of Ovechkin) to prove yet again that he deserves to be Captain of the Capitals.

Dale needs to get his mind right.
But we don't care, because Today we are Better.

Also, lol Ravens amirite

GO PENS

You know, we talk shit on the press about 99% of the time.
The other 1% we are in Canada.
Had this game gone poorly, we probably wouldn't be commending anything Canadian, but as is, we feel comforting congratulating their cameramen for a swift eye and a flair for drama.

Look at that.
That's real craftsmanship.

So tonight, we're going to set some time aside to thank Canadian press. It's sort of like the special Olympics for reporting.
You guys were so close to being American. If only you could have eaten a few more cheeseburgers, loved freedom, and ditched your camera skills and commitment to documenting hockey events.
Oh well.
We'll be happy for the little things.

MOST ADORABLE FORESHADOWING OF PAIN AND DISASTER 

This photo, taken before today's game, somehow foreshadowed what would happen in the first few seconds of this game.
If we note the composition, the puck is seemingly flying from God above to Lars's outstretched hand. His gratitude for the Lord's loving embrace can be seen in that pious smile, face scrubbed clean as Punky Brewster on a Sunday.
This photographer and his/her work get our highest accalaids for capturing a moment of religous purity.

MOST BEAUTIFUL REPRESENTATION OF JOY
 
You know, ever since the women's liberation movement, photographers have been afraid to artistically capture the joy of groups of women. Instead we must focus on inequality, pain, suffering, etc. Boring shit.
Well, all of the ladies in this picture look pretty happy, and that's a satisfying feeling.
Especially that #58.
Thank you for the courage, Mr. or Miss. Photographer.



 BEST DEPICTION OF SELF-AWARE DOUCHBAGGERY
 
Sometimes it's hard to catch those moments of truth.
In most situations, a photo such of this wopuld be filled with false bravado, smiles, and the puffed chests of those that were trying hard to pretend they had earned something.
No one looks happy here.
This photo won't warm hearts, but it shows us something real, and we can respect that.

WINNER OF THE DRAMATIC IN-MOTION CATEGORY
Sometimes a goal really isn't the most important aspect of a sporting event. And while plenty of shots were taken of the goal itself, the most important photo of the night is the dramatic interpretation of the feelings imparted by said goal.

Creative genius.

MOST NATIONALISTIC FOCUS

We assume everyone loves their own country as much as we love America, although we can't find a single reason to understand why.
That's why we can appreciate the slightly blurred Jeffrey.
We'd rather focus on an American being scored on than a Canadian scoring.
So the opposite must be true for those dirty Cans.
God Bless Nationalism.

PARTICIPATION AWARD

YEAH OKAY WE GET IT.
YOU ENTERED.
WE HAVE TO BE GRACIOUS.
THANKS FOR SHOWING UP, MR. PHOTOGRAPHER.

THE AMERICANISM AWARD

(No photo of this next goal exists from Canadian press. They must have been bobbing for nachos in a vat of cheese. Get 'er done.)

BEST DISASTER VICTIM SHOT

You can hear the "wtf" from this photo.
That takes an awesome zoom lens.
Keeping your equipment updated is what wins you awards.


BLUE RIBBON FIRST PRIZE


This is Emotion.


Pens in the SO.
Wooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

INDIVIDUAL AWARD
Evgeni Malkin's hot neck.
Likewise, James Neal's beard.


ALT THREE STARS
1. America
2. Neck Veins
3. Knock off 5-hour energy.

Go Pens.

Hello, friends.

It feels like it's been forever since we talked.

I hope you had a pleasant winter holiday and that your return to school and/or work was not entirely traumatic.

For my part, I just handled a personal crisis that required the purchase of hideous (yet comfortable) brown clogs that I will be wearing for at least the next six weeks.

Enough of my non-problems. Let's get to some hockey, shall we?

PREGAME SHENANIGANS

I, for one, am looking forward to much more of this

I will also be skipping the Staal Brothers Drinking Game this evening. For one, JStaal is still out; for two, I got some blood work done recently and the results show that I am no longer allowed to drink quite so many beers. Because I am old.

But if you wish to partake, we will never judge you.
We live in a zone that is free of judgment about our readers' lifestyle choices and full of judgment about opposing fans' lifestyle choices.

FIRST PERIOD

One thing I have not missed is ROOT's crappy camera angles. What is so difficult about showing us the game from the wide side angle? Why would you cut into a corner shot when Orpik's playing the puck behind the net?

I am a curmudgeon.

Fedotenko misses a huge opportunity, which turns into a ridiculous Penguins rush, and results in a pretty fantastic goal by Chris Kunitz. Pens lead 1-0

Steiggy and Errey engage in some hand-wringing about Lovejoy being a healthy scratch. Honestly, I am just glad to live in a world where there is the possibility of the Penguins actually making healthy scratches, instead of bleeding profusely and calling up so many guys from Wilkes-Barre that they are going to have to start dipping into the Nailers' roster.

I am momentarily distracted as the husband comes home and starts to angrily shovel the driveway. I come back to the game as Tangradi and Stu Bickel commence fighting, although Bickel seems to get the best of the Big Dog in this particular bout.

Some more shoving results in both Boyle and Michalek being penalized for unsportsmanlike conduct.

The Rangers get some good chances, but Fleury continues to be awesome. Haters to the left.

SECOND PERIOD

I took a brief interlude to cook dinner, but when I came back, nothing was different. I suspect I've missed more Letang-style excellence and good chances that the Pens have failed to convert into actual goals.

Unfortunately, I have finished cooking in time to see Carl Hagelin covert a terrible Penguins turnover into a goal. And a soft goal, to boot. 1-1 tie

HOLY CRAP YOU GUYS I TOTALLY JUST SAW TK PASS THE PUCK

This second period is a lot like other second periods we have seen recently, in that there are some decent chances and big saves, but no goals.

THIRD PERIOD

Best Vacation Spot goes to Richard Park, who capitalized on a 3 on 1 to stuff the puck in from the left wing. I want to visit Richard Park for an extended stay. 2-1 Pens

"OH MY FUCKING JESUS" - Zoë on Malkin's goal. 3-1 Pens

Top #1 Russian

Now this is more like it. This, my friends, is what we've been waiting for.

FINAL SCORE: 4-1 PENS

NEVER LOSING AGAIN

Go Pens.

If you were like me, this game was a hot date at work with Hot Fudge Sundae Pop Tarts and some Schweppes.
But, if you were like the Penguins, it was an all-inclusive date to the fucking Olive Garden. Or Dorsia. Or at Paula Deen's restaurant in Savannah.
Basically, it was love. Because we're playing hockey again, folks. We're trying and that's all that matters.

GUESS WHO ISN'T GETTING ANY FUCKING POP TARTS

Jamie McBain because his goal was fucking meaningless, excepting the fact that it gave Malkin an opportunity to be awesome.
We were briefly distracted from this opportunity, however, by the fact that ROOT completely ignored Engelland destroying some idiot:

Tim Gleason is not in his happy place.
No Pop Tarts for you, either.

WHEN MALKIN BECAME CAM WARD'S GOD, PART 502834932

It's that left shoulder.
 It's a battleground for broken dreams.
Cam Ward will not be receiving any memorial trophies tonight.
I mean he will, but not any important ones.

This couple is like in their 60's or something.  They love Malks, we all love Malks.  They're on the glass seats.  We really hope they didn't leave Consol when the game was tied. Something in their faces leads us to believe No.  Unsung heroes of Consol.

Canes got away with some shit, Pens got away with some shit.  Blah blah blah, period ended.
OH WAIT HE HAS MORE GOALS THAN HENRIK SEDIN I DIDN'T CATCH THAT
Vancouver in progress with LA right now.  ew Sedin.

THE MOMENT WHEN RE-CONCUSSING JEFF SKINNER WAS NOT ON OUR AGENDA
I barely remember the second period.  It was basically all Fleury and Ward having a Balls Out contest.
Orpik put some unbelievable, clean shoulder check on Jeff Skinner in the 3rd who went down to the ice in a heap.
Despite this being his first game back from a 16-game absence with concussion, Skinner returned to the game.
Referee called interference on Orpik even though Skinner had touched the puck.
ALSO apologized to Orpik before shootout for a bad call.
We don't know how we feel about all of this except we hope the Wonder Child is okay.

When Orpik comes out of the box he tries to wrist it from the top of the left circle.
Nope, lol.
 Also at this point Dupuis has almost scored like 3 goals.
The Malkin line looks scary and singular in ways that go even beyond 09 playoffs Malkin.  With Neal, the man is unstoppable at times.
Skinner is okay. . .Skinner is okay. . .karma karma karma. 

Joe Vitale fought someone.  He is the most intense of all men.
The press didn't take any pics of it because they were too aroused.

This little girl's enjoyment, however, was pure:
 

Jokinen almost put it away at the end of the 3rd.
But he didn't.

DID YOU NEED A HAND TO HOLD IN THIS POST-GOD, POST-TIME UNIVERSE
Everyone was calling Dupuis to score.
Didn't happen.
Everyone was everywhere, especially Malkin who skated like every minute ever and even blocked a shot and almost set up Curtains for the Hurricanes with Dupes, but time ran out. 

Meanwhile, Craig Adams shares insider knowledge about the Canes.
Apparently it worked.
James Neal walked in on a tied shootout and said FUCK YOU to Cam Ward and took all the Schweppes.

Eric Staal got destroyed by Fleury's toe.
We'll post a pic if it surfaces because it is amazing.

PENS WIN
2-1 SO
lfodfjkdsl fdsjflsd
lol

INDIVIDUAL AWARD: PERFECT HUMAN BEING
 
Gary Roberts teaching James Neal how to find The Way.

ALT THREE STARS
1. Fleury's toe.  Just the toe.
2. Chad LaRose, for being invisible tonight thank goodness.  We don't know if we could stand to see that face on an upset stomach.
3. Joe Vitale's sense of selfhood.

Go Pens. 

Someone named Kyle just emailed us a link to their blog (we are unsure if the submitter is male or female and do not want to cause any pronoun confusion; we live in a modern era).
This blog contains a poem about how the state of Florida looks like a giant blue dick in this pic of Malkin. We were so moved that we decided to share.

[Source]

Thanks, Kyle.
The fact that people think of us when they are inspired by something phallic is one of the many reasons why we love having this blog.
And we thought we just had to share with everyone.
Go forth and conquer.

GO PENS. 

So sometimes genius things happen when you don't mean them to.
Like when you invite your flailing brother over in hopes that he can enjoy a square meal and then kick him out because you are ready to vomit.
I said flailing, not failing.
A certain level of failing starts you at involuntary flailing.
You know that. You are hockey fans.
You have had days flailing over horrible losses or uncomfortable press releases on your captain's well being.

You know when the "other" Marc-Andre is gone, things are hilarious.
Press vomits on itself.
 
"Motorcyclists take part in the "International Winter Motorcycle Rally 'Pinguinos' (Penguins)" in Puente Duero, near Valladolid, central Spain, January 14, 2012. Some 25,000 motorcyclists took part in the rally this year."
Foreshadowing victory.

6-3?!?!?
That is closer to an NBA game.
In hockey we don't wish for such egregious offerings.
But we will take them.


This Vespa represents the Lightning's showing in today's going.
Wtf.
You come to a MOTERCYCLE convention on a VESPA?
Tampa, you don't know who you are dealing with.

And you know how we deal with that?

 
We haul you to the fire and we burn you. For warmth.
You fools.

Pinguinos are the only thing worth it.
How about Malkin?
Wtf.

If the press had cared, things would be different.
But we all know the press.
Thus, we must imagine Malks as the lead of this motorcycle proceeding.

We at PH approve of manliness, but possibly not motorcycle ownership.
That's pretty gay.
No offense, if you own a motorcycle an want to take us on a ride on the back of it and all.
But otherwise, fuck leather gear.
You think you can kick ass when your clothes are stiff in the knees and elbows?
DOUBT IT.

Let's not take beating the Lightning too seriously.
Let's take it like we do in a good season.
Ohhhhhhhhh so we beat a Florida team.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
BFD.
Let's go beat the Caps, the Flyers, the Sens, the Sharks (regular season, not playoffs when they get something shoved down their scardy-pimp throats), anyone who MATTERS.
Hockey in Florida.
Pah.
Let's get UPPITY, Penguins fans.
Let's not act too pleased with ourselves for beating teams that historically suck. This is a jumping off point. Let's get in there, dominate, and become the best again.
Blahblahblah our cap'n has a concussion.
Wahhhhhhh.
Let's take pride in our depth and prove that we deserve more, no matter the injuries and woes.
Maybe I am just drunk, but I expect the Penguins to overcome everything, and if tonight is any indicator, WE CAN.

To hell with our problems. 
I am so over it.
We have a team of captains. We have players taking massive salary cuts to be here. Let's start acting like a team that should be happy with what we have apart from Sid.
Maybe when we stop feeling sorry for ourselves as fans, the goodness we project into the universe will heal the fragile cranium of Sid. 

Okay.
Let's do this.
Let's go.
Get excited about hockey again.
Stop entering games with apprehension.
We're NEVER LOSING AGAIN.
Because in all honesty, look at our team.
We shouldn't.
Go Pens.

There was passion. 
There was heartache.
There was drive, character, and....wait.
Wait just a minute, are we talking about Florida right now?
Because Zoe and I have been there. We have seen it with our eyes. The most majestic thing we saw there was the shelled out car in the parking lot of the only crack den that would accept peanuts to let us stay there:
 
This is the Florida we know and thus abstain from.
But sometimes even shitstorms like Florida have a momentary break in the weather, and tonight the forecast made you feel like getting drunk on your patio. If only it weren't covered in that standard 4 inches of Pittsburgh ice, which, like Pittsburgh sports teams, JUST WON'T QUIT. 
Also, it was 80 degrees there.
That is what you call injustice.

Anyway, if anyone ever doubted that a rose could grow through the cracks in the pavement of despair, those haters can see themselves to the exit. Something was alive tonight in Florida that wasn't assisted by life support.
Hallelujah. 

MOMENT THAT WOULD FEEL GREAT IF IT DIDN'T SEEM LIKE IT WAS A MAKE A WISH SORT OF THING

Undeniably, we get misty eyed when grown men get sentimental.
That's why we cry so much at hockey - it's a pretty gay sport. In the best of ways.
So when we heard that the team had banned together to wear homemade "C"s on their jerseys during the gameday skate in some sort of display of solidarity for their fallen leader, we had to duck out of work for just a moment to check that our eyeliner wasn't running. 
While this is wonderful and we love that our team stands by their man, it's still a little disheartening that we are treating him like a cancer patient. But it's always nice to see the man skate.

Don't get us wrong. We here at PH know that Sid will get better. 
No one likes to talk about it these days, but this is our official stance:
If Sidney Crosby was told that he had no shot at getting better, that he would die if he played hockey again, we believe that he would fake diminishing symptoms, put on his skates, and play hockey until he died on the ice.
Because he's still trying to recover, there's hope.
Get worried when he has a suspiciously sudden return.

If you ever feel like wallowing, just for a second, we understand the impulse.
Watch old Sid commercials.
Most of all, this one, which was tragic to begin with, but now takes on a whole new level of horrible depressing angst. When times get rough, take five minutes to feel sorry for yourself.
And then remember that you are a Pittsburgh Penguins fan and that you are probably making us lose with your negative attitude.
Get your mind right.

THE WAR OF NORTHERN AGGRESSION AWARD

Before things get to filled with love and affection, Asham wants to remind our brethren in the south that under no circumstances my you spell your name "Krystopher" unless, and this is really contingant on his mood, it is fashion week and you have just made a splash with your pastel collection of faux fur bikinis. 

MOST ACTION IN THE FIRST PERIOD
 Clemmensen's post are gettin' slammed more than your mom on the day of coupon circulars. 
Between Neal and Kunitz (a place no PH staff member would turn down) those posts outdated Clemmensen in a heartbeat, making him wonder what life would be like if only he were born of aluminum and steel.
 

MOST RELIEF FELT BY THE PENS SINCE THE WEDNESDAY AFTER TACO TUESDAY
Steve Sullivan, uncle to the same Ann Sullivan who taught Helen Keller to communicate (feel free to fact check us there, but don't be surprised when we're out of town when the results come in), takes a pass from Cookie and guides it into the wide open space in front of him.
 
Teach them to believe in their own abilities, Steve.
It runs in the family.

MOST DESIRED COOKIE 
We tend not to get political here on PH, because mostly we root for no one in the realm of politics. When we realize that the free world is being controlled by a bunch of old men who are so out of touch with the world that WE live in that they probably would say shit like "Poke-e-man" to our friends if we were still in the fifth grade, we just kind of laugh.
We basically can't trouble ourselves with it.
HOWEVER sometimes something comes out of this hailstorm of dildoes that is truly hilarious, such as this amazing quote from Newt Gingrich. It makes no sense that a grown man said these things unless he was Evgeni Malkin, so we're just going to go ahead and steal these words from Newt and make them come out of the mouth of someone less evil and more adorable.

Geno finds his cookie.
(Press failed tonight, ignore event attachment to photos.)
The Pens are up 2-1 and it finally feels like the universe is righting itself.
You actually can fact check us on all details for this one.
Even we can't make this shit up. 

MOST HOPEFUL JAIL-WRITERS
 Let's be clear: Girls who love Brooks Orpik are the types of girls who end up writing love letters to the criminally insane in federal prison. Including ourselves.
So any time he so much as breathes upon the puck within viewing distance of the goal, we all start squirming in our chairs.
Alas, he almost always does his job and passes to someone with actual scoring ability, which makes us love him even more.
He passes it to TK in this particular situation, and TK proceeds to walk it to the doorstep and kiss it goodnight.

TK not pictured because he was off having a chat with the puck's father.
(Is it just me or does this photo look like claymation? Press, this would be the newest and most interesting way of compensating for your total lack of coverage in most games. Then again, maybe it is getting too late.)

THE CLINCHER
We're going to give the Panthers goal the exact amount of attention it deserves and move right along to the goal that James Neal scored when he could have bitched out and passed to Malks. Not that passing to Malks is a bad move, per say, but we're glad Mr. Neal knew that he could do it. Because he did.

PENS WIN 4-1

So here is where we normally do Alt Stars and an individual award, but it is late, and I, MUCH LIKE SIDNEY CROSBY, have recently obtained a concussion. I did it only to show solidarity. Also I just tried to categorize this post as October 2010 for reasons I cannot explain. So let's all just hit the hay and thank the stars above that we pulled out of this one with a good win, and hope that no one caught one of those Florida diseases that we hear so much about.


GO PENS

 

The Pittsburgh Penguins 2011-12 season has been brought to you by:
shaking and crying
inexplicable nightmares
and, on 1/11/12, AMERICA:


now we're tied for 8th in the East with the Caps.
Crosby is apparently on this road trip for some reason?  we don't know.
He will be addressing the media.  We all know how much that means for morale.  We think.

Panthers on Friday.
The Panthers are good.  Shit.
Maybe we can form 1 team with Columbus after we cast Winnipeg into the fire.  A 28-team league would be much easier on NHL scheduling.

Do you believe in magic?
Fuck magic.
Read the last post if you didn't get it already.

It's better to earn what you get than for it to be lucky, or for it to be handed to you.
Either we earn it or we don't.
Cry some more, Mr. Eagle.

Anyone have a Stanley Cup favorite other than the Bruins yet?

Go Pens. 

After walking off of the ice following their 5-1 loss to the Ottawa Senators, the Pittsburgh Penguins roster is transported, in the tunnel, through a freak wormhole, to the End of the Universe.
Which, despite popular belief, takes place in a wheat field at dusk.
The sky is burning and the sound around them sounds like a distant screaming. Thousands and thousands of people screaming.



Brooks Orpik, not one to accept any shenanigans, takes the lead on the investigation of their surroundings. He advises them to take their skates off since they won't be much good for walking around in the wheat. The wheat is young and is hardly knee-high. Everyone keeps looking around, trying to find the source of the distant screaming, but there is nothing around them. Perhaps a forest in the distance. Just a dark smear on the horizon. There is a sudden clanging of metal from above. Brooks looks upwards.

A voice speaks from the sky, a friendly voice with a Canadian accent that speaks enthusiastically, as if on a promotional ad for Hockey Night in Canada, or about to deliver a rousing speech in the locker room.

"None of it matters, boys," the voice says, and clears its throat casually.
"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" James Neal says. He is incredulous. He is thinking about how everything matters in preserving a world that includes things like toaster strudel and flannel pajama pants and big-time snipejobs from just above the circles.
"I mean none of it matters RIGHT NOW. You guys have just got to get it together," the voice says, as if over western omelettes at Eat'n Park on Murray Avenue at 2AM.
"I together," Evgeni says, darkly. "We together." His face is clouded in determination, but everyone around him shuffles uneasily.

"Are you God?" Joe Vitale asks after a long silence. "Can we make prayers or wishes to you or something?" interrupts Eric Tangradi, thinking that knowing the voice's intentions is more important than it being God.
"There is no God at the end of Time, eh, boys?" chuckles the voice. "No, you can't make wishes either, Big Dog." The voice is especially crisp now, like a movie trailer in HD. Marc-André Fleury expects to see credits flashing in the air around them. But he keeps this to himself and wonders about whether they'll be able to go back soon and if there will be postgame juice boxes.

"No, you see," the voice says, "I don't make the rules." This statement is accompanied by red flashes in the sky. Dark clouds roll in. Tyler Kennedy begins to cry.
"Who does make the fucking rules, then?" says Craig Adams. He doesn't have time for this shit.
"Ha! I can't tell you that. But, well, let's get down to business, boys."

Objects begin to fall from the sky. Not too many all at once as to become terribly dangerous, and they fall lightly to the ground, as if dropped from the height of a coffee table rather than miles up into the unknown, burning heavens. There are fractured bones. Pieces of what looks like fresh muscle. The protective device fastened over skates when a player's foot is injured. Hockey helmets. Peanut butter sandwiches. Bottles of protein shake. Stick tape. Waffles. Keys to BMWs.

"You live in this world, you know," the voice says as Chris Kunitz is conked on the head with a small kitten, which lands on the ground unscathed. Brent Johnson picks it up and holds it in his arms. "What are you even talking about?" Brent yells. "This is a fucking kitten."

"Just because you lost a few games doesn't mean that all of this is going to go away. Just because it feels like the end of the world to some people doesn't mean it is," the voice says.
"That doesn't explain the kitten," says Matt Niskanen.
"Stop it with the kitten, guys," the voice says, slightly higher-pitched now, clearly becoming frustrated. "I can't change anything, I can only show you. What would you want? Would you want to get free punches at the officials from the game, at Matt Carkner's face? Would you want to be able to pretend you won after that lousy effort? Would you want me to magically make Sid better, to get all the doubts and funk out of Flower and Johnny's heads with a divine blessing?"
"Maybe we would," says Marc-André softly.
"Bullshit, son," says the voice, without losing it's jocular manner. He sounds like the drunk uncle at a family party. "You'd want to earn it yourselves, wouldn't you?"

A massive black hole opens in the sky. They begin to feel themselves being sucked up into it.
"You can't blame anybody but yourselves," the voice says. "And even if it is your fault, whatever. Shit might get real bad." It coughs. "But you can get through it."

And so the end of Time came to pass, and the Pittsburgh Penguins didn't die.

Basically.

caps tomorrow lol
go pens