This is a hot mess and we're not dealing with it.
Anthem singer killed a baby before the game. Bank on it.
The great Brad Thiessen had a strug.
Sid had some goal. Things looked good until the Sens shat on the Universe.
But never you mind. Good teams recover from days like this.
This is a hot mess and we're not dealing with it.
Okay, I know awards shows have been scarce as of late.
Is it necessary in games like this?
How about the award goes to the entire team?
Oh wait wrong team pic.
OH LOL SORRY AGAIN
Here it is...
OH LOLS GODDAMNIT
WHERE IS THAT PHOTO?
I guess we'll have to wait a few months for the photo to properly complete this thought.
Goddamn you press, get a time machine already.
So what can stop us now?
Do you smell that sweet, sweet smell? That is the smell of champagne tinged with industrial cleaner used to keep the sacred bowl cleansed.
Get used to it.
The only real thought asides from "CELEBRATE ALL YOU CAN" is "Come on, Sid, when ya gonna do it?"
Playoff spot CLINCHED.
Pshhhhhhh. Like we didn't know that before this game.
When it's in the enemy's net like, immediately after the game starts, you know we are aching for some real hockey and not this normal season jobber nonsense.
If you weren't drunk in celebration by the end of the first, who are you? You need to take some notes before the playoffs begin. Learn what is good for your team. Do your part.
We are so, so, so, soooooo ready for playoff hockey.
P.S. We miss Hal Gill in a sexual sort of way.
More to come. ROAD TO THE CUP.
ROAD TO DA CUP, MUTHA FUCKAS.
More appropriate title for this playoff season.
All of the deities.
The Winnipeg Jets will eternally remind us of the early-mid 1990's when everything was topsy turvy and strange in the world.
We still stand by the fact that the current Winnipeg Jets are a strange trick being played on us by the space-time continuum.
Perhaps we can break this curse by comparing all 12 goals scored in this game to outfits from the wonderful corner of the Internet that is FUCK YEAH UGLY 90'S CLOTHES.
The first Penguins goal dawned with confidence and brashness, like Drew Barrymore in a leopard print bra. I mean, no one expected Tyler Kennedy to finally make good on one of those sweet setups from Sidney Crosby.
Immediately, Jim Slater and Bryan Little comes back and score some goals, putting the Penguins down, and at least a tiny bit stunned. Not that they showed it in their play at that moment, but run-and-gun and sloppy defense was the name of the game. Little's was on the power play, a 4-minute high stick on Evgeni Malkin that actually was kind of an accident. But no one cared.
This was our soul at that moment. Just really ugly stuff.
But the Pens got a PP after Toby Enstrom did something stupid. Letang passed to Sid who made some insane god-tier pass to Malkin who sent it across for James Neal. James would soon be the Pretty Party story of the night. Unbelievable existence.
BARBIE JEANS WEEKEND
for those following along at home, that makes it 2-2.
Vey early in the second, Malkin's line goes out for a standard, in your face type shift. No one knows what is happening. It was a bold move, but someone had to do it.
And oh my, that hair. We'll see you later, James Neal's Hair.
Bryan Little showed up at the party again. The one he was very directly not invited to.
In an odd turn of events however, Tyler Kennedy was invited, and brought all of the honeys with him and Sid. Is this bizarro world or what?
And then there was Malkin.
At this point, Ondrej Pavelec had a fucking meltdown and had to leave? We're not really sure what happened there. We feel bad. The Thrashers used to have Pavelec, Kari Lehtonen, and Johan fucking Hedberg which made them, on looks alone, perhaps the most fuckable goaltending trio of all time. We still sympathize with Ondrej as well because we think he is probably a cool guy in a bad situation. We have many happy memories tied to the Thrashers franchise, usually to do with fantasizing about Johan and beating them to death.
We feel this picture best represents Ondrej:
Stapleton scored. We didn't want it, but it happened.
Paul Martin lost his man like 2 times in this game at least. Man.
James Neal rolled up though and told us not to worry. He accepted the pass and put it behind Chris Mason. Who we barely remember is alive. Poor fellow.
James Neal would like to welcome you to his heaven, which is also our heaven, but might be your hell. Second career hat trick. First with the Penguins. The homecoming is sweet.
Some ladies might like vintage Gosling? We really do prefer James. We have to admit.
Best Day Ever.
Malkin then scored some completely unrealistic goal that to the Jets/Thrashers must have been just an epic punch in the balls. I mean. How did he even aim that for the net?
Sometimes people score goals from way behind the net that are just like "umm, physics just quit on the universe, we don't even know." Then there are some where you think it might have been intentional. And the bottom falls out of your worldview.
But in a good way.
Dupuis had a snipejob too, for good measure. If you're going to allow four you might as well score at least twice as many for insurance.
Here is Alyssa Milano in a strange hat.
We've got nothing else. Just sloppy bullshit compounded with total offensive domination.
It's an interesting point that the Jets power play is amazing at home and dead last on the road. Could they be a case study for how much the "extra man" of the crowd can affect the outcome of the game?
God we are so spoiled.
Hope you enjoyed the post as it comes from the innermost depths of our souls.
It can't all be singing and laughing and drinking the blood of our enemies out of a golden chalice while 80s music plays on a continuous loop in the background.
No, not like the blood of Christ. This involves no symbolism. Bitches be literal.
Sometimes bad shit happens in the midst of awesome things, like when you go to summer camp and make a lot of really cool friends and win at capture the flag and the canoe race but then at night in the cabin your camp counselor touches you in your bathing suit area.
That's what this felt like.
Philadelphia touched us all up in our bathing suit areas.
Yeah, that person holding the sign?
That woman who thinks it's still the 90s / man who thinks it's still the 80s, the one with the fine sheen of determination and possibly a coating of Italian dressing - that human touched your no-nos.
I HOPE YOU WEREN'T SAVING YOURSELF FOR ANYTHING.
"No, I'm sorry, I only date women who would be able to handle a unicorn if the situation arose."
Craigsy makes it happen in the first period, which was a pretty intense period, considering it was a Sunday game.
We sort of wonder if the players feel like us, and look at the clock saying "really, I am expected to do this now?" Not that any time is a bad time for hockey, but sometimes a bitch has to wash her dishes while the sun is still up.
There's a lot of over-the-pants action for the rest of the first and for almost the entire second period. Nothing gets done, but the foreplay is, well, it's junior-year-of-college good. And just like in college, just when you thought it wasn't going to happen and that everyone involved was wasting their time,
Now you have something to tell everyone about during your study group.
No lewd caption necessary.
Of course, then came the backlash.
Simmonds and Fatty manage to tie it up in the third, thanks to a lot of luck, and the distractions caused by a professional athlete somehow having MULTIPLE CHINS.
OT was fast and head-on. It flew by, but not quickly enough, because Fatty grabbed it in the last second.
.9 seconds left, to be exact.
So the Flyers walked out of this one with two points, but not really through skill and talent. Just thuggery and deceptive fatness.
(It took everything in me not to turn their sticks into lightsabers in this one. Goddamnit.)
But really, how can you expect Philly to keep it classy? They never had any class to keep.
Whatevs. We get a point, we're looking awesome, and we couldn't care less about Philly. You know why?
The King has Returned.
We all know the Kafkaesque terror that comes out of playing in New Jersey. Well, someone must have given it tuberculosis because it didn't show up.
The Penguins have won 11 straight. This game had its painful little hiccups. Crosby still hasn't scored; maybe we should trade him. I mean he is kind of too pretty to hang out with the other kids:
Oh, Captain. it's good to see you back and making unattractive faces.
MOST STUNNING AND OCCASIONALLY UPSETTING MOMENTS
Chris Kunitz was awarded a penalty shot early, but Brodeur definitely didn't bite on his move. Like 2 seconds later James Neal scored a goal super early on off of the faceoff. Brodeur was unable to deal with this and it was so shocking that nobody took any pictures of anything. Just a "derp" move by the press.
They did, however, capture this great Pens fans presence in NJ during warmups. We'll take it. It is a sign of things to come.
Oh wait here is a weird picture of Neal as Kovalchuk looks on in soft angst and wonders where his favorite jeans are right now and if they miss him.
Brodeur then made a series of insane saves on Sid. Slapshot, rebounds.
Does Sidney Crosby even seem like a real person anymore? Does he seem more like the unrealistic Baby Jesus of the past? Does he seem like he is being suspended above a stormy ocean looking straight into the eyes of Poseidon, unflinching in his resolve?
Whatever. He's pretty good.
We hear about a terrifying place that Marek Zidlicky once inhabited called "Mike Yeo's doghouse." We can only assume that Sidney Crosby has never been there. What a terrifying idea.
Andy Greene Some kid named Josefson scored a goal that was like barely a goal.
w/e. We had our doubts but they were few. Nothing else really happened.
When Alexei Ponikarovsky shot the puck into the logo.
But Pascal Dupuis runs all of his shifts lately in God Mode. Zero fucks given. His face at having sniped Martin Brodeur is priceless. Some monounsaturated fats undulated out of his orifices as the goal went in. See?
Then, all of a sudden, Matt Cooke emerged from his lair and tipped a shot in.
Brodeur's face tells a terrifying story. Matt Cooke's ass is all up in his business and it is a stunning sight. We love it when people go to the net. Starting to see more and more of the Matt Cooke we know and love, from the past, before all of the Bad Things happened.
MOST AMMUNITION AND WARMEST KITCHEN FIRE
Then. Then! The Pens got a PP. And Crosby, battling along the boards, manages to thread some kind of unbelievable pass to Gene for a one-timer. One of the best passes we've seen in a long, long, LONG time. Jesus Christ.
GATHER 'ROUND THE KIDS, EUGENE
WE MADE IT THROUGH THE WINTER!!!!
By the end of the third, the shots were something like 26-9 Penguins. Seriously.
AS THE ICE AROUND OUR HEARTS MELTS
The sun rose on the 3rd period, which was strange and awkward.
Everyone was out examining the spring seedlings when Petr Sykora frolicked up and made a thing happen.
We were pretty Whatevs about it. We can't get mad at Petey. We just can't.
But it was 4-2, and we didn't want to have some kind of wretched collapse into the depths of the Earth. There is, of course, a win streak at risk here. And embarrassment to the Devils. Which we are sick of.
NEVER THE FUCK YOU MIND, CHILDREN
PENS WIN! 5-2. yup.
The stars are just perfectly placed.
Not Fleury's best game, but it's kind of hard to stay sharp when you only face 14 shots. We understand.
We dare you not to get terrified of Sid's eyes boring into your soul through the visor here.
Who's the pretty one here? Volchenkov, clearly.
ALTERNATIVE THREE STARS
1. Kris Letang - still going strong
2. Matt Niskanen - because
3. Jordan Staal - beast
philly in 10 minutes! go pens.
Oh, you know, the team beating up on the Rangers.
If the Rangers have been playing like this all season we have no idea who they're beating. Like Atlantapeg? The Bruins?
Sad times for the Bruins right now, too, btw. By the end of this game the Rangers just looked frigging demoralized and it had nothing to do with Sidney Crosby, really. Sid was very quiet. Poised and quiet. You can tell he is reeling himself in as he wants to charge through a thousand men, eviscerating them with his broken stick as he puts goals through all of the Vezina winners ever with the sheer force of his mind.
But: like 16 minutes. He is taking it slow. Can still protect the puck like a beast.
We'll see what happens when he gets his flow back.
But the real story of the game was Kris Letang, who logged all of the minutes, and whose hair is actually named The Flow. Maybe.
He was beyond perfect in everything he attempted and was a +5, with 1 assist.
I mean Crosby was good too. +3 and 1 assist.
LOOK AT HIM HE IS SO HAPPY DO YOU SEE
But he just couldn't match the class or offensive prowess of Matt Cooke, who embarrassed Stu Bickel for his first tally and also tipped another one in. Think: without Matt Cooke in this game, very little happens. Also apparently Tyler Kennedy was working on passing the puck this game. Man. Things just keep getting more surreal. It's like someone slipped the Infinite Improbability Drive into the basement of Madison Square Garden.
The team is healthy.
No one died.
Troy and Trina Crosby somehow didn't create a black hole in MSG with their presence.
We got this beautiful photograph of Jordan Staal and Steve Eminger out of the deal. Is this even from this century?
SO BASICALLY HOW COOL DO WE FEEL RIGHT NOW
We have a very tough schedule here at the end. But with enough swagger, we can get it done.
This won't be like last season.
First of all, thanks for the emails and tweets and stuff. It reminds us that people like us. We didn't pause due to drama or anything, we're just real people and this happens to be a busy season.
That said, your requests that we keep on keepin' on reminded us of an obligation.
Some bloggers think fans have an obligation to be consistantly vocal because they grace the internet with their completelyamazingandnewi'msure ideas. We say nay - we have an obligation to YOU. We promised we'd be here, and here we are. You guys are better than the jobbers at some certain places that fill the comments with
"My wife made meatload, what did your make?"
"Lasagna. I have to go to sleep soon."
"Yeah me too. Hope your dog feels better."
We pray that we become forgotten before such codependent chodes fill our inbox with garbage.
You guys fill our inbox with blingees and scary dance videos and jpegs with really concerning topics and horrifying interviews translated from Russian magazines and a passing moment we missed in a game. It's AWESOME.
Every hockey fan should be so lucky. So we try to pass what we get onto everyone. We're going to keep trying for a while. We'll have slumps and hard times, but we promise to give advance notice if we're going to Shut It Down.
ON ANOTHER NOTE:
IS A TERRORIST ORGANIZATION.
Well. Okay maybe not. But still
100.7 occasionally plays this game called "Guess What Evgeni Malkin is Saying."
I'd pretend to be offended, but really, it's kind of a hilarious concept. Well, or would have been if it were 2009 and his english still sucked. As is, I mean, you can kind of tell what he's saying. It's not hard, especially if you use context clues.
So this morning on my way to work, they were playing the game. I don't call radio stations as a general rule of pride, but after too many people had called in and enraged me I called and translated the interview which was just essentially a description of what had happened in the game.
We know there are people who understand you, sweet Evgeni.
Anyway. They asked if I was a "Hockey Ho" which I guess is a misguided attempt at making a phrase like "Puck Bunny." I responded that I was not, but I am a hockey fan.
Should we just assume that all people who listen to a certain kind of music are horrible people?
Maybe we should.
We'll be bringing the laughs back soon. We enjoy you.
We will return to our regularly scheduled broadcast in due course.
Does anyone read our blog anymore anyway? Man, we suck.
Zoë, Kimberly, and Mary.
We didn't watch the Leafs game last night. We were eating bone marrow at Meat & Potatoes, which is located at Penn Ave and 7th.
We imagine that this is actually a lot like what the Leafs game was. Chewing on and reveling in the fat.
This photo courtesy of Ted H. on Yelp. We didn't photograph anything, we were too busy eating.
A very odd picture of Pascal Dupuis and Brian Strait.
Gustavsson did not get any bone marrow.
PH Staff is either sick, busy, in love, or on vacation. Choose 3 or 4. Sorry for the lack of quality blogs. We hope to return to you in a more enlightened state.
I was all set to recap this game in the normal way, but I spent the whole night laid up on the couch feeling pukey.
In lieu of a real recap, I give you a single picture that conveys everything you need to know about this game:
Yeah. It was pretty much like that.
Up next: Toronto and the NBC Sports Network.
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