Hey let's check out some more awful experiences in applying to be a member of the promotional crew for a hockey team!
Today we lose respect for the Columbus Blue Jackets organization. Just a smidge. God damn it.
Check out the application here, all interested young folks.

It's all going really well until you get to the part where you have to upload a picture.
Then there is some small, gray text.


GRRREAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTT.

But I mean only the ladies.
Wouldn't want any women who don't have rock-hard flat stomachs, regardless of athleticism/ability to skate, doing fan promotions in PUBLIC of all places.

We really need to know why it is the norm for NHL teams to discriminate against women based on their bodies.  We understand, as we discussed in our super controversial post about the Penguins ice crew, that this is an entertainment position and that they should hire outgoing, friendly people who present themselves well.
But I mean, break out the bikinis, right?
Notice that men aren't asked to show their stomachs.
Let's shame women based on their topless appearance!
Clearly this will get us the most enthusiastic, capable, and qualified applicants!

Anyone who says "sex sells, I like to look at ice girls" is perfectly entitled to that opinion; however, we are of the belief that hockey isn't an appropriate venue for this kind of judgment.
We also understand that this type of work can be considered a resume-builder for people interested in modeling and other types of public, advertising work based on appearance.
But obviously, there are other kinds of beauty.
That is a larger problem with society, but still. 
It's like, god forbid we parade women around who don't fit this particular paradigm of fitness and beauty.
How about we stop parading around women?

To the credit of the NHL Blue Jackets Twitter (and the fact that this post probably means nothing and no one who works in hockey promotions at all will ever care about our opinion, because that's the way the world works), they did respond to me:



That page, by the way, can be found here, and looks like this.  Couldn't get the whole spread in the pic, but you get the idea:


We also don't want to hate on these women or these men.
We hope they feel awesome about their bodies and are happy people.  We also hope they are good at their jobs.
And they're probably nice people.  It's not my job to shame them for fitting into the mold, so to speak.

But on the other hand, this is a backwards response.
Why do you have to make women send you pics of their stomachs?  Because of the uniform.
But why do you have the uniform?  Because we want this type of stomach.

It all comes down to the application process.  It's skeezy and inequitable because it never comes out and says what it is, explicitly.  I don't know why everyone is okay with skirting around the issue: we're hiring women based largely on their sex appeal because sexy women thrown into the mix at hockey games is a generally accepted marketing practice that we are totally behind.  We want model types.  No fatties.

It's not simply an exercise in doing arena work in the realm of fan promotions.  It's never going to be about your enthusiasm or ability to do the work.  It's something else entirely and it always will be.  It just looks so sneaky on the page.
And yes: it sends a negative sexual message to females who are interested in working in sports entertainment at any level.

or maybe we're just butthurt because we're not pretty or something idk.

The Columbus Blue Jackets organization is still one of our favorites and it's a team we'll stand behind every day of the week because we want to see them succeed, but the game is played on the ice and we don't have to approve of this from any sports organization.
Women are people who deserve a legitimate place in any organization's payroll, but we really think something is wrong when a minor part of the arena experience that could be fun for EVERYONE is reduced to a judmgent call about women's stomachs.  There are lots of people at the game who probably don't care, including straight female fans, homosexual male fans, and children.  We totally understand that this type of promotional crew is crafted to appeal most to the heterosexual male fan who apparently needs some extra eye candy, but isn't it time to stop crafting your marketing strategy to appeal to just one type of person?  Is it socially acceptable yet to dig diversity?  That the fan experience at the arena can be bettered by trimming all of this stupid stuff and focusing on creating an inclusive community that doesn't have an undertone of random sex appeal?

We honestly don't know what the Pepsi Power Patrol even does.  They apparently don't have to skate.
w/e

 It just seems so old-fashioned and stupid that we continue to pay women to appeal to someone else's idea of "hot."

come at me bro

Go Pens. 

ETA:


Thanks, Blue Jackets Organization, for dealing with this better than the Penguins did.
i.e. with silence.
whoever runs the CBJ Twitter is definitely all right. 

REASONS YOU SHOULD ROOT FOR THE COYOTES FOR THE REST OF THE POSTSEASON
1. Ray Whitney

Ray Whitney is the kind of guy who plays his balls off.
He is also nearing 40 and continues to be an extremely prolific scorer on a team that would never be considered "high octane."
He is also kind of adorable. But w/e.
If there's any player nearing retirement age who deserves another Cup we think it's this guy. The Coyotes pulled off a stunner against Nashville last night thanks to his heroics, and it was a great OT goal born of perseverance.
Speaking of what got Phoenix to that great moment, however. . .

2. MIKE FUCKING SMITH AND HIS BALLS (BIGGER THAN YOURS)
This is Mike Smith's time to shine.
He played for the Stars and Tampa before this so it's not like he had a lot of realistic playoff dreams to hold onto.
The Coyotes are really pulling off an underrated performance in general, but Mike Smith is the man who is keeping them in it. He is robotic in the best possible way.

This is the guy who set a record for shots on goal against in a regular season shutout. I mean the previous recordholder was Craig Anderson. But clearly he is in his element and heating up at the right time of the year. To be tending goal like this as a 161st overall draft pick must be pretty cool.
We believe in his capacity for championship. He is kind of a swarthy mystery.

He just doesn't even care. And he proved his superiority to Pekka Rinne, at least for one night. His performance will likely decide this series.

3. Rostislav Klesla

Warrior whose name is fun to say.
Also, great if you are a Penguins fan who misses rooting for a responsible d-man who can get shots on net from the blueline.

4. Do you really care about Alexander Radulov?

Nope, us neither.

REASONS YOU MIGHT WANT TO ROOT FOR NASHVILLE

Big Harold.


Cases can be made for all 4 teams remaining in the West, however.

If you're rooting for anyone in the East, well. . .good luck and you suck.

Will be periodically running Coyotesblog til the bitter end.



Go Yotes, Go Pens

We've been calling for Killing Moon by Echo and the Bunnymen to be the theme of this series and somehow it's making more sense because we lost and this isn't exactly the most thrilling song of all time.
Some luxury car used this in their commercial with some fucking vampires. Idiots.


This offseason is probably going to be tumultuous. This isn't a club that should expect or appreciate first round exits.
We believe that the Penguins mentally lost this game more than the Flyers won it from them, and that anyone who says otherwise is making shit up.
But we're biased, obviously.
Giroux is still a misogynist. Surprisingly little Twitter chirping re: our article yesterday except some guy who said he wanted to take us to dinner and then not call us. A veteran move.


There's a lot to look forward to, though. Just not today.



One of these days. More crushing defeat pics to come, most likely.

We are on the Phoenix Coyotes/Louisiana Muskrats bandwagon for the rest of the season.

but, as an addendum, we are with you and the Pens through the thick and thin.

thanks for being magical.

go pens, forever.

Oh Jesus fucking Christ, yinz guys.

Claude Giroux: linking us up with biddies since 2012.
Check out this bullshit.


Oh all right let's just go ahead and condescend the entire female community.
"Ladies" please.
Yeah we love hockey.  We love sports and the sporting community and we love people who are a part of it (generally).  But people with divergent interests don't deserve to be treated like bitches who live under a rock and were also born yesterday.  Or lured in with some pic of Henrik Lundqvist like LOOK. . .WE HAVE HOT MEN.  You know what else has hot men?  The world of art and literature.  Rock music.  THE WORLD HAS HOT MEN.  GET USED TO IT.  And Henrik is also the Lowest Common Denominator of hockey attractiveness.  If he looks like GQ and not like a crazed Swede (which we know him to be) you are posturing and being shallow.  Point out talent before you point out his fucking face.  We know we walk a fine line of objectification, but ATHLETES ARE FUCKING PEOPLE and female sportsfans are generally observant of this.  Despite popular belief we are not giggling 14-year-old girls who judge people based on appearances.
And if you're in a relationship in which you feel like you are "losing" your partner to an interest it's probably time to reconsider whether or not you are compatible.
OH MY GOD HE IS AT THE BAR WATCHING THE GAME THAT IS JUST SO FRUSTRATING.
We understand that Catherine Kitts here is trying to get the otherwise-uninterested ladies to jump on board with their male-friends' hockey interests but she is also being a huge condescending bitch about it and sucking the patriarchy's dick.
For example:
- some people are not in heterosexual relationships

- why does Ms. Kitts assume that only male-female relationships display this dynamic? For example, I have a small group of female friends that I work with. Of the five of us, two of us are huge hockey fans who will be the ones insisting that we put the game on TV. Our other, female friends put up with this.

- why does she also assume that in any male-female relationship the man is guaranteed to be the more interested sportsfan? Among PH Staff, all of whom are in long-term heterosexual relationships, this is generally untrue, with the female in the relationship being either an equal or much bigger hockey fan.

- in short way to fucking stereotype; there aren't "rules" as to who is interested in something or why or how or whether they have a penis or a vagina.

- also a woman who is getting super pissed at her boyfriend for neglecting her because of a sport--this is a relationship that probably has additional problems and power structures at work. Boiling it down to "oh he likes sports and I don't I just don't understand why he can't pay more attention to my interests and therefore I will pay more attention to his and get involved lol" for comedic effect isn't actually comedic; it shows a male partner who is just tooooo into the NHL playoffs to be an attentive boyfriend and his girlfriend is pissed about it so instead of like, actually pointing to a problem in the relationship and fixing it, WE WILL GET THE LADY. INTO THE NHL. BY WAY OF HENRIK LUNDQVIST'S FACE. PROBLEM SOLVED AMIRITE.

This is a mad embarrassing tactic and the relationship between the male and the female in this hypothetical situation probably still sucks balls and is not healthy.
This is not comedy. This is not cute.

Let's break down the rest of this debacle line-by-line.

If you have a boyfriend, love his team.
Or how about be supportive of his interests but like whatever the hell you want?
My boyfriend doesn't HAVE a team, what am I supposed to do then?
Play all the video games he plays and give up my interest in the NHL playoffs, perhaps?
lol no. We will separately maintain interests in the things we love because that is cool!

If you don’t, pick a team. A good team (do some research). Don’t pick a team because you like their jerseys or because you like Mike Fisher. We all get it, he’s hot and great.
Well, Mike Fisher isn't hot. But w/e we get the point.
But I mean don't feel like you're being forced into picking a team. Like what you like. Hockey is cool and we will espouse its greatness for days on end if asked to do so but like. Seriously. Shut up. LIKE WHAT YOU LIKE, PEOPLE. And if you are drawn to a team because you think the jersey is cool or some dude is cute or they just happen to play in your hometown and end up just REALLY HAVING FUN AT THE FUCKING HOCKEY GAME, good for you.
But be sure you are having fun at the hockey game. If you're not having fun, you should probably go and do something that you do think is fun.
What constitutes a "good team" anyway?
Are all the Toronto fans who suffer for their team because they grew up with it shitty human beings?
Repeat: like what you like. It's not the responsibility of a female to have to justify every goddamn thing she does because of some bizarre sports misogyny.

Once you have a team, know when they play. ie “Hey Rick, we watching the Flyers game tonight?” He will be so impressed that he may fall in love on the spot, or at least cook you a nice meal sometime.
BECAUSE THE ONLY WAY TO IMPRESS A MALE HOCKEY FAN IS TO KNOW WHEN HIS TEAM IS PLAYING.
HE IS A ONE-DIMENSIONAL INDIVIDUAL AND THE ONLY REASON HE WILL EVER LIKE YOU IS IF YOU KNOW HIS TEAM'S SCHEDULE.
YOU SHOULD FAKE INTEREST IN A SUBJECT YOU HAVE NO INTEREST IN. SOLELY FOR DICK.

Once you pick a team learn a few players’ names so you can try and contribute to the “hockey talk”. Random facts are key. ie ”You boys know why they sing God Bless America rather than the national anthem in Philadelphia? Because its been a tradition since the 70s in the playoffs” Jaws will drop.
HAHAHAHAHHA OH WE ARE JUST HAVING A LITTLE "HOCKEY TALK" OVER HERE.
BRING YOUR CRIB NOTES BECAUSE IT'S GOING TO GET INTEEEEENNNNNSE.
You need to know these things to impress people, after all. Impressing people and particularly people with penises. People with penises who like sports. They have no other interests and they will think less of you for not knowing these details.
Fake it til you make it. Your vagina is getting in the way and ruining everything.
But Catherine Kitts has a superior vagina; you better listen to her wisdom.

If someone says “Don’t you know who so and so is?” Say yes. Even if you have no idea.
BECAUSE YOU HAVE A VAGINA YOU HAVE TO LIE ABOUT THINGS YOU KNOW TO OBTAIN RESPECT.
Get this one tattooed on your wrists in case you forget.

Once your team is out, pick another team. But anytime you don’t know an answer you can now just use the excuse “Yeah sorry I only follow the…..” Scapegoat.
Wait, isn't this contradictory?
Wasn't I supposed to lie?
Well, now I'm just going to make up asshole excuses for not knowing things. Instead of just admitting, "oh no hey I didn't know that! That's interesting. I'm kinda new to all this. But I really love Team X. They're just really fun. I like going to games. But Team Y is cool too, I'm rooting for them in X Conference!"
Being honest is fucking overrated.
We will inhabit the castle of lies. Much more interesting.

Nothing is better than a girl who has her favourite team’s attire…. Especially old school. Shows you’ve been a long-time fan. Even if you haven’t.
CASTLE OF LIES IS ON LINE 2.
RING RING
Fuck you.

On game day pizza and beer always makes a great meal suggestion. Always.
I mean that's just life.
But apparently you have to be an imaginary hockey fan to understand this.

Never ever say you think a player on the opposing team is cute, because a) I dont *!@#ing care if you think he’s cute and b) he plays for the enemy. Actually, no complimenting anyone wearing the opposing team’s colours at all. Even if it fits them well, or brings out their eyes. Keep those comments to yourself.
Whoa, calm down girl.
If you're in a rage because of someone's face or a color we recommend drinking more. Or less. :/
The game happens on the ice. Right? Or am I wrong?

Don’t question any superstitions we may have about the game. ie. Specific seat, or meal / beer, can’t wash our jerseys, need a type of chew. Everything is done for a reason, one we don’t have to explain. It’s playoffs.
"need a type of chew"
lol okay
I mean yeah superstitions for fans are fun. But at the end of the day we're still pretty sure that the game is played on the ice. Could be wrong but just throwing that out there. But the likelihood of us being correct and having legitimate interests is extremely decreased due to our vaginas.

I don’t care if you don’t like my beard. It’s tradition. Say you like it.
This sounds rape-y. Calm down there, Catherine, seriously.  Do you need a breather?

If we’re watching at home don’t ask to flip during commercials. We’re likely flipping between 3 games. Or more.
People who flip during commercials are, on principle, annoying, whether you're watching the NHL or not. But we'll chalk this up to "welp."

If we’re not watching together, an intermission is a great time to text. Even a TV time out is ok. Do not text me when we’re on the penalty kill and down 3-2. Or in overtime. Or anytime at all during the game.
Because texting is a super obtrusive thing to do in any situation. Even if you really need something. If you had a bad day and want to talk later. If your car is broken down and you need a ride. If your mother is dead. Better yet. . .as a shitty boyfriend if you text me during the game I am going to throw my phone against the wall in protest. Taking my lead from Claude Giroux of course.

Never use the term “well they tried hard” I mean I damn well hope they tried hard, they’re professional hockey players and this is the PLAYOFFS.
Dipping out of sarcasm mode for a hot second:
This comment clearly comes from someone who doesn't know the first thing about work ethic or the NHL playoffs.
Work your ass off sometimes and you still lose. It happens. Good teams lose with their dignity intact. It happens. If you can't stick with your team through that, you're a bad fan.

Don’t ask me if I really need another beer because I really don’t but I’m stressed out and it makes me feel better.
This sentence doesn't even make sense.

Don’t tell a guy “he’s too drunk”. There is a method to his madness. If his team is winning, he’s drinking to celebrate. If it’s a tight game he’s drinking because he’s nervous. If they are getting killed, he’s drinking to forget. Best way to handle it is get as drunk as he is, and try and feel the same way.
No. This is patently untrue and also dangerous. Sometimes people can get too drunk. And sometimes they really get hurt.
"get as drunk as he is and try to feel the same way" might be the worst relationship advice of all time. This probably leads to alcoholism and codependency. Not that we're experts or anything.

Accept the fact that I will use horrible, horrible language at home, at the game, at the bar, in the car, and in front of children if something goes wrong in the game I am watching.
Only men in relationships ever swear about anything.
Keep your demure character intact, ladies.

If it goes into overtime, we’re watching it. Yes, sometimes it takes forever and yes that means you might not be able to watch Grey’s Anatomy. We’re watching it.
Oh man this is inexcusable.
We as women missed the memo that we are expected to care about Grey's Anatomy and be huge control freaks about the television.
. . .Does this mean we're not actually females?
We'd appreciate an update from Ms. Kitts on this matter post-haste.

If they don’t win, don’t talk about it unless your complaining about the refs.
Or you know be honest about why your team lost and don't blame it on officiating.
Apparently this is a guide to being the worst fan of all time.

Don’t you dare celebrate if my team gets bumped out of the playoffs because that means we can start hanging out again. I’ll break up with you. I mean it.
. . .my brain is broken. I quit. This sounds like the worst relationship ever. "start hanging out again"? when did we stop hanging out? OH WAIT I FORGOT WE HAVE NOTHING IN COMMON BECAUSE YOU ARE A MAN AND THEREFORE LIKE SPORTS AND KNOW LOTS ABOUT IT BUT I'M A GIRL SO I ONLY HAVE BIDDY INTERESTS LIKE GREY'S ANATOMY. REMIND ME WHY WE ARE DATING AGAIN?

And most importantly, DON’T ASK QUESTIONS. Like if I’m yelling “That’s *$!#ing offside, didn’t you see that?” you may not know what offside is, but you agree. “Totally offside.” Questions are for the internet.
. . .
oh wait castle of lies right right. PH Staff encourages you to ask questions at all points in your life.
Anyone who hates you for asking questions is a shitty friend who should be destroyed.

So there you have it ladies. You should now be well equipped to score some serious girlfriend points over the next few weeks. My best advice? Get. On. Board. Sure you might not take an interest in men batting around a puck, bloody fights and rules you don’t understand most of the year … but the best thing about playoffs is it’s an excuse to party … every night. And what could be better than that?
So the moral of the story is to pretend you're interested in something so you can mask your drinking problem.
REALLY GREAT ADVICE AND SUPER FUNNY ARTICLE LOL

Excuse us while we vomit all over ourselves.

We're still waiting for confirmation on the murmurings we've been hearing from the underground news sources that the game takes place on the ice and that the fans of the game are interested in it because they think it's fun.
If anyone can confirm or deny this controversial rumor, email us straightaway.
We are confused and need to know the answers.

Claude Giroux is an idiot if he thinks this is good advice for any human being.
And it appears that he and Ms. Kitts hate women.  It's uncanny, really.
suck it.
go pens. 

This skeleton crew sails on, on this ghost ship of DREAMS.

LYRICS ARE IN THE DESCRIPTION apparently. 
Whatever.
If you didn't know this boogie was for real without lyrics, you don't need to be listening to this song. 

Pittsburgh was suffering some major oxygen deficiencies this evening.
At least that's the impression everyone got when they realized that they couldn't fucking breathe for several hours this evening.
Get Barry on the horn. We need FEMA in here with some major emergency relief.

Better yet, let's just get Marc-Andre Fleury, who has never let hordes of desolate individuals lay to waste in the raging tides of HORRENDOUS POTENTIAL DISASTER.
 
I DECLARE IT OFFICIALLY NOT "TOO SOON."
 But really guys, it's been awhile.

Anyway, what the hell happened tonight.
It's all a blur.
You have the most stressful first period ever, to start with.  Hopefully no one following the series was too unsettled by the fact that the Flyers drew first blood, because the official theme of this series is to NEVER DRAW FIRST BLOOD EVER WHAT ARE YOU THINKING DO YOU WANT THE GODS OF HOCKEY TO REIGN PUNISHMENT DOWN UPON YOU COME ON SERIOUSLY. (TM). 
But going into first intermission down can really get you to hit a little too hard into the moonshine. Which is okay. As long as it is what you did last time we won. If you aren't following through on wearing the same clothes, drinking the same drink, and sitting the same way you sat the last time we won/scored, you are simply not doing your part as a Penguins fan.

The second period was a fucking whirlwind.
Can you remember a faster period in a first round series, ever?
 It's all love and hope and weird Scottish lawn care commercials in retrospect.
Oh, and this:

You can never go wrong with the classics.
Agreed upon by that amazing lady with the tallcan of Miller.
And that dude who may or may not be every human's sophomore year of highschool chemistry teacher. 

Then we get to the third, which was just hanging on for dear life.
Once again, may we say
mafmafmafmafmafmafmafmafmafmafmafmafmaf
 

Hanging on tonight was a Big Deal.
We all know that it was just Hanging On, though. 
We've got two more games here, and it's do or die, every night, every period, every play. There is no room for error.
Luckily, this is playoff hockey and history means nothing. 
Each game is a new day. The only carry over is momentum, and we've got it.
So we have to beat the Flyers two more times. Who cares if we had to beat them five more times?
We play the way we have to, every single time. There is no other answer. There is no other way. The only alternative is crying silently to yourself and watching repeats of Swamp People, telling yourself that it didn't have to be this way.

Tyler Kennedy does not understand Swamp People. There are no ponies.
Jordan Staal is from a fucking sod farm. His official view is "what is a gator and why do we need it?"
Sidney Crosby does not own a television with any sort of cable package that allows heathen nonsense to appear on it, only closed circut television that plays repeats of his every mistake and success. 
Neal...well. He kind of likes SwaMp People, but ONLY IN THE OFF SEASON COME ON.

Uhhh.
Moving on.
Here are some photos that Define Our Generation, in no specific order....

MAFass.


 Snuggles. Brooks looking weirdly unmurderous.

Don't dislocate a shoulder on the glass, boys. Fair warning.

Kunitz looking casual after destroying a life or five.
 
Seriously all of the cutest photos came from this moment.
We can't get over it.


MAFlove.

The reason 10+ girls are already one chapter into Jordy/MAF slash at this exact moment.

And, most importantly, the greatest omen:

Pepper Staredown.

We have an uphill battle in front of us, folks.
But really, half the fun is in the struggle.
Let's make this a series we talk about forever. Let's make ourselves revel in the fact that we let Philly get so close to victory that they could taste it, and, knowing them, already started celebrating it, before taking it away.
Here in Pens land, we know it ain't over till it's over.
I didn't hear the final buzzer of the series yet, did you, Philadelphia?

Keep working hard, Pens.
Keep striving.
Keeping believing.

Go Pens.  

Sit down kids we are going to tell you a story. We have provided the mood music for those of you who do not live inside our sick and twisted minds.


Before this game there were no answers, and frankly we still don't think there are answers. . .merely a sloppy, sticky mess of feelings and concentration shoved into the cracks of what was once a sinking ship.
We've got the bilge pumps. We've got a skeleton crew of good officers who will be here til the bitter end, even if it means going down with the ship.
Funny thing is, you might not be able to be at your best until you've been at your absolute, rock-bottom, disgusting worst. This wasn't the Pens' best game ever simply because it wasn't the Flyers' best game ever. Your best game ever is when you meet an immovable object, a team that is every bit your equal, maybe even better, and you churn out a win based on perseverance, poise, and defensive ability.
Maybe that game will never appear in this series, because both teams have proven themselves to be totally fucking insane around each other. They might be great teams on other nights, with other matchups, but something in this series is goddamn poison and it's probably going to come down to who drinks the least of it.
The way this is going, no result will surprise us.
But we have just a sliver's worth of belief to hang onto. One heartstring. One tendon.
Get nasty. Ruminate. Do some shots.

We barely remember anything.

Click to make it bigger.
Pens scored 8 unanswered goals.

But it started really fucking bad.  Pens were in all kinds of penalty trouble.
Evegnei donkey-punched the Flyers after they scored first on a goal that had everyone who had ever loved Marc-André Fleury vomiting.
Niskanen had a big-time goal--his first career playoff goal.
But then the Pens got in penalty trouble seemingly at random.  No reason for it.  Just went insane.  Still calling that the high-stick penalty on Cooke was bullshit.
Timonen. Voracek.
Balls.

But then the Pens went on a tear.  It just happened.  They were playing the Flyers the right way.  Their heads were in it, and somehow, miraculously, they started playing defense.  Simply by not making mistakes.  It started by keeping the puck in the offensive zone.  It went to another level from there--the Flyers were fucking frustrated.  They showed it and they paid.  Pens power play woke up in a big way.  No idea how to explain it other than everyone went to bed last night believing that they could do this.

Hidden story of this game was Kris Letang losing his shit and slowly finding it.

And the equally hidden story of how we hadn't even realized Paul Martin had been injured.
We feel bad for Ben Lovejoy for being a major fuckup but we know he can get past this.
Unbelievable effort by both Despres and Brian Strait tonight to hold the blueline together with their own special glue.

Bunch of pics in no particular order:




Matt Niskanen's mullet clearly contains hidden and special powers hitherto unknown on this earth.

Imagine Jordan Staal's swagger as he goes to bed tonight.
Pure swagger as he puts on some sweatpants, burps, and brushes his teeth.
Pure swagger as he takes a piss before bed.
This. Is. Swagger.

Sid's ass.

lol, still?


Malkin scored one last fuck you at the end, and it was 10.
10 big ones.






No matter what happens, the Penguins have proven that they still know what it means to walk together.
They've just gotta do it again.
One game at a time, gentlemen.

Also, unrelated, but Zac Rinaldo acted a fool and apparently this is a habit of his.
Via some biddies on Tumblr:

What is this we can't even.
The notes also prove that there is a terrifying, secret Tumblr community that will literally discuss in detail Zac Rinaldo's "hairlessness."
There's something just frighteningly unsexy about people that take teaser pics of themselves undressing in bathroom mirrors.
show us your dicks, Philly?

Friday could be a beautiful day or a sour one, but we as fans got our minds back for a bit and we're going to hunker down, dig in, and try to take what comes with grace.
Please nobody go to jail.

 
On Friday, the Ginger Beard runs free,

Stay up to see if the Kings can pull off a sweep.

We love you.
We're riding this to the end.
Let it wave.
You can turn the depressing music off now.
But remember: it gets really, really, really, really bad sometimes before it gets better.
Sometimes you even die inside.
Chances are we've lost all access to our humanity at this point.

It's playoff hockey, guys.

Go Pens. 

Nothing we can say on this blog that hasn't been said already elsewhere.
NHL is in a cultural breakdown of violence, Pens will be without Adams, Asham, and James Neal for game 4.
Hossa taken out of Game 3 of his series on a stretcher tonight. Unbelievable shit.
The Penguins will determine tomorrow evening if they have a handle on reality and we'll be there either watching it go up in smoke or chugging the fucking gasoline.
WHO KNOWSSSS
Pray for Hossa but the Coyotes are rad except for Torres who should probably be thrown off of the boat and into the unforgiving lake of fire.

Love you.
Go Pens. (???)

Hello, friends.

I don't know what to say.

What can be said?

I'm bereft. We are all bereft.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas (1914-1953)

When you're done being melancholy, you have to move on. And that's what this video is for.
Latrice Royale's advice is applicable to every type of situation. Including this one.

(EDITED TO ADD: Aaarrrrghhh, I can't make it work, just go to 1:50 in the video for Sage Life Advice)

This is the beginning of the rest of your life.

Go Pens.

"If Bill Guerin were here..."
"Man, Billy would be givin' it to us..."
"...bet he's lovin' that dock he's livin' on."

This is all James Neal heard as he walked into the locker room.
Disgusted, he threw his gloves against his locker. He ripped his jersey off over his head. He unlaced his skates in a fury.
Fuck this, he thought.
I don't know a Penguins with Bill Guerin.
"And I don't think that should fucking matter," he muttered to himself.

"What's up," LeHair asks.
 "We deserve this." Neal answers. He puts his head between his knees. "We deserve this," he says to himself, more than anyone else.
Kris shakes his head. "They say 'deserve' shouldn't be in our...uh...lexicon." James Neal is certain Kris read this online on a girlfriend forum or some shit, the way he pronounces it so carefully. He's memorized this.
"Is that what you think?" He asks Kris, incredulous.
Kris gives no answer.
"IS THIS WHAT YOU THINK?"
He asks everyone, this time.

Sid looks over at him, squinting in exhaustion and confusion.
 TK snorts.
Ben Lovejoy rolls his eyes and goes back to changing.

"You guys are fucking pathetic" Neal grunts, pacing the aisle. "No, you need to hear this, you are pathetic." he shouts this time.
"What are you talking about," asks Sid, standing up for his men. "We are working for this. This is the only thing we have."
"Yeah, but you're acting like you have no right to it. Don't you remember? Don't you remember fighting for the Cup like it was already yours?"
He shakes his head.
It is time.
Silently, he reaches into his locker and pulls out a package. It's wrapped in black tissue paper. Once the packaging is ripped off, he reveals a case of cigars. "These are for you," he says, and passes one to each member of the team. 
Engelland takes one looks and sets it down on the bench beside him. "Smoking isn't exactly going to help. I'm no Cary Price."
Neal appears beside him with a torch lighter. "Sorry my friend, not a choice."
Everyone reluctantly holds the cigars to their mouths as Neal comes around, lighting them one by one. Some eye rolls are exchanged.



"Deserve," Neal says to them all, as they reluctantly puff.
"Deserve. That is what we were told to forget. We were told to forget that we deserve anything. And why?"
The men are silent, looking at their own equipment. 
Neal looks at LeHair. "What do you feel like you deserve?"
Tanger looks around, stunned by the sudden attention. He is silent.
"I said," growls Neal, "what do you feel like you deserve?"
LeHair sputters. "Uhh...to win...?"
"WRONG ANSWER," screams neal, ripping the cigar from Kris's mouth and holding the burning ember dangerously close to his throat. "WHAT. DO. YOU. DESERVE?" 
"To...To win a Cup...without...without Max to thank!" He sputters.

James returns the cigar to Letang's shaking hand and takes a puff of his own cigar.
"Good."
He goes to his locker and pulls out a second package. Inside of it are mismatched glasses. He passes them out. He turns his attention to MAF.
"And you?"
"I...deserve..."
MAF pauses for a second too long. Neal rips the glass from his hand, shatters it on the bench beneath MAF and holds the jagged edge to his throat. "WHAT DO YOU DESERVE?!"
"I desserveee to win dee Cup and not be questioned az ze goaltender any longer."
"Good enough," Neal says, setting down the jagged edge and handing MAF another glass. From his locker he pulls a third package.

He pours everyone a glass.
And then, he pours some out on the lockerroom floor. 
"You think you don't deserve anything, the rest of you? Then you don't."
He strikes a match on his breezers and drops it to the floor; the alcohol catches, setting flame to the carpet.
Sid nods, contemplatively, watching the flames start up. He's been here before. He knows what is happening. He swigs the contents of his glass and then smashes the glass to the floor, sending shards everywhere, and sparking flames further.
"I deserve more than Stanley Cup hangover playoffs. I deserve another fucking Cup. I deserve to go down in history." The fire glints in his eyes.


Jordan Staal stands up.
"I deserve to be taken seriously. I deserve to be more than a third liner. I deserve to have more Stanley Cups than all of my brothers, combined. You got any more of that?"
James Neal hands him an entire bottle out of the depths of his locker.
Joe Vitale slinks out of the darkness. "I deserve glory. I deserve it, for all I've done."
Michalek simply nods, throwing his glass to the floor.
 
Neal stands before them.
"I'm no Bill Guerin. I can't burn down a hotel and convince the papers to never report it, despite the fact that ten innocent bystanders were found dead in its wake."
Flames lick at his heels and he stands on the bench.
"Fuck, I'm going to get charged for all of this damage. But so be it, you fuckers need to REMEMBER. You need to REMEMBER the Glory of being Penguins. You don't just work for this, you EARN it. We need to treat these games like we were BORN to play them."

Sid nods silently for a moment, before speaking up himself.
"I missed too much to let this go. I missed to much to come back to complacency. So the defence needs some fixing, it's not like we don't  have D. We have passion. We have desire. But we fucking DESERVE this. I deserve this."

James Neal nods.
He hopes he has gotten through to the team. 
Breaking out a fire extinguisher, he douses the flames just before they reach the Penguin.

Sitting there, in the corner of his locker, he sees the last package, wrapped in black tissue paper.
It calls to him.
But he knows it is not yet time. It is not that desperate, not quite yet.
He slides the bottles he has taken out back into the bag he had been given earlier that day and says a quiet prayer. 

"Please let us not need that last bottle. Not yet. Give us strength, Billy."


 

Hello, friends.

I am pretty sure that we have the best readers in all of blog-land, because they make us fabulous Blingees that we then post for your amusement and edification.

Witness:

Courtesy of Carski, the masterpiece "KTang and the Flow in Your Mouth"

Also, the inspiration for the title of this post:

From rexy278, witness the excellence of "CEC Exorcism"

EDITED TO ADD THIS SEXY PENGUIN:

Thanks to Raisa, who just sent this one over the Interwebs

We are all about the Blingees, my friends.

Ignore work today (you weren't getting anything done anyway) and spend your afternoon crafting something sparkly. Then send it to us. I'll add all of them to this post.

Is it 7:30 yet?

Go Pens.