Not that we have a lot of journalistic sway here in this land, but we couldn't agree more with Seth Rorabaugh of Empty Netters and his post about the NHL realignment. The days of the regular season fucking mattering to anyone seem to be over. The idea of being mentally "in it" to make the playoffs is going to start disintegrating sometime around December for those teams who are more than a few wins behind the other teams in their conference. This was unthinkable before. Now, we might as well scratch our balls and get high and stop paying attention for how much the race to the playoffs is going to matter by midseason. Frankly, it's embarrassing. We like the home-and-home between every team--A LOT--but those games matter so much less to the playoff race now. The NHL has marginalized games that they don't consider to be marketable "rivalries" which often end up being the most purely exciting games of the season. There will be a shitton of repetitive matchups come playoff time. We feel like there is a giant NBC-shaped dick down our throats and it's never, ever going away. Fans who rarely pay attention to teams other than their own, who are total homer bastards clutching Bud Lites and eating Cheetos with their bros barely paying attention to the games, will love this change in format. People who actually watch hockey and care about it probably will not.
Things could potentially get interesting, you know, in the THIRD FUCKING ROUND, if each conference champion is reseeded according to their points. In other news, this article about the realignment "rekindling old school rivalries" is a joke.
When does journalistic integrity return to the sports section of our newspapers and websites?
Ever?
Repeat: gurgle.
Also, literally everyone fails at math.
Everyone.
D- for you.
Having 8 teams in some conferences and 7 teams in others doesn't actually make any sense.
Anyway, here are some speculative reasons as to why these conferences have been grouped together, and what it means for everyone involved.
This conference consists of the teams whose fates are controlled by wood elves, which have secretly dwelt in Western forests for centuries.
The elves have a particular grudge against Roberto Luongo, who had a bad run-in with them outside a Boston Pizza in White Rock shortly after he was traded to Vancouver in 2006.
What Bruce Boudreau couldn't know until he had actually stepped into his office in Anaheim was that in order to continue playing in California, he would have to make a blood sacrifice to the scrub grass.
This is a very dangerous conference (sorry, we keep wanting to say DIVISION, Gary), full of tribulation and strife.
NHL should probably call this "Conference with Teams We Aren't Sure a Lot of People Care About, and the Blackhawks, and Swedish Jizz."
Atlantapeg holla, you will like barely play Canada at all so you might as well still be in Atlanta.
AWKWARD.
Everyone has already yelled their distaste with this conference from the rooftops, since it appears to be basically OMG NORTHEAST DIVISION AND FLORIDA.
The only explanation we can think of is that the NHL is slowly trying to retract Florida back into the continental US by using the radiation from jetplanes.
This is possibly the only situation in which a new and different rivalry is being created, between CANADA AND FLORIDA.
Does anyone need a change of pants?
NBC
NBC
NBC
VERSUS
NBC
VERSUS
VERSUS
VERSUS
COCKS
STAALS
DRUNK
VERSUS
VERSUS
NBC
JIZZ
INJURIES
MAX TALBOT
SIDNEY CROSBY
WAIT WHERE THE FUCK IS MIKE RICHARDS
HOW MANY POINTS DOES OVECHKIN HAVE
NBC
NBC
VERSUS
YOUR MOM
thus concludes our analysis.
we'll be in touch with the wood elves to see if anything can be done.
Go Pens.
Philly tomorrow. Aughghghg
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.
Perplexing.
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!!!!
Subsequently:
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.
Sucks.
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.
Wooooooooooo
This is usually the time of the season when you get a feeling in your heart about who your team is going to be this year.
Sure, there will be streaks of bad and good, but it's probably the best feeling in the world to sit down to watch a game in mid-December (whether in front of your computer, on the couch, at the bar, or at the arena) and know that your team might play like shit, or like a bottle of perfectly aged scotch, or like a beautiful space rocket, and you still know what type of team they are.
Some teams don't have that luxury, and Pens fans, being lucky as they are, have had it in spades in the post-lockout era. Even on the worst nights, it was kind of hard to have a complete character crucifixion in mind. Imagine being a confused Ducks fan right now. Imagine if Bylsma's system had been a bust and ever since then it had been a slow decline. No, actually, don't imagine that. No hockey fan should ever have to, in a perfect world. But this world ain't perfect. We're just lucky.
Right now? Well, the Injury Ray of Doom continues to shine down on the Penguins, taking down big-minute defensemen (KTang, Zbynek) and Tough Mother Fuckers (Deryk Engelland possibly). Jordan Staal was just hit in the face with a puck so we can only hope that nothing more serious is going on inside his sod-blessed face.
But we can't be too worried because the Penguins eternally keep us guessing. Everyone has a shitty night now and again, and everyone gets assaulted by a Hot Rookie Goalie, and everyone makes ridiculous mistakes because they got too excited and thought there were going to be Parmesan Goldfish in it for them if they played the right way. But we don't act on a rewards system here. At any rate, the Penguins keep you guessing, but not too much. Meaning: there's always hope, even when we're down 4-1. There's always hope, like there was last night, when it's a 6-on-3 and Pascal Dupuis, Matt Cooke, and Craig Adams are wholly unavailable. There is always a chance that you're tuning into what feels like the most hard-fought game of the last ten years there for a second, or that it's going to be a magical night filled with beauty and skill. Who knows? Or maybe we shit the bed. But we still love to watch yinz try.
Even when we've lost so far this season, we've been treated to wonderful games, for the most part.
Even if someone was being a dick, it was worth it to haul our drunk asses out of our seats to yell.
Hockey is good because simple moments bring joy back to the spirited place where it belongs.
You know, like GWGs.
Basically, Pittsburgh Penguins, we feel you.
You are the team of Balls That Don't Quit.
It's only fucking December, but now, as ever, we're pretty lucky.
It's kind of impossible to jinx it because I don't think we're going to wake up and find out that the team is actually a masquerading puppy-hunting squad that kills puppies in every city it visits, wreaking havoc on the puppy community on an international level.
Win or lose, it's regular gameless nights in December that sometimes make you love your life with your hockey team even more.
And Pretty Princess James Neal's beautiful gingerbeard.
Go Pens.
"BEEJ IN YOUR FACES" - the demure Ms. Mary
In ROOT Sports' most valiant attempts to get you drunk, they gave you this:
They also gave us this, so from the bottom of our hearts, we have to extend a big, full shot of cheapest vodka:
FUCK YEAH
FAYETTE COUNTY REPRESENT
WOOOOOOOOOOO
WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
woooooo
No honestly, this game was just a dirty roller coaster ride of awesome.
The first period was tits as Canes fans made unintelligible moaning noises at every single whistle or movement from the ice surface. Mental pandemonium, and Jeff Skinner is doing the hockey equivalent of eating a fetus as he charges around the ice with no regard for human morality.
The Staal brothers faced off.
A Staal won.
We are informed that Henry Staal is in attendance.
If you're still conscious. . .
Jamie McBain almost singlehandedly destroyed our chances of winning.
He was like "I don't have any goals. But I'm going to go score a couple."
He did. It was terrible. But Craig Adams, Arron Asham, and Pascal Dupuis were there to prevent that.
Craig Adams silently had 2 points, more than Crosby. He might catch him for all we know.
But clearly we're not having any problems with anything, because Craig Adams is present in our lives and that's okay.
We may have lost Engo, which brings our "healthy badass defensemen" category even lower into the abyss.
But we're really here.
We did it. We won.
Sorry for the shitty recap, but our fave stream crapped out in the middle of the game and there was an incident with some fried rice that had to be taken care of immediately, lest it interfere with bourbon consumptions.
At least our screenshots are legit.
We will make a more comprehensive post tomorrow.
A State of the Union if you will.
GO PENS
NHL.COM YOU'VE OUTDONE YOURSELVES AGAIN
YOU KNOW WHO PROBABLY HAS PLENTY OF DUCK
HE PROBABLY EXHAUSTED THE SUPPLY BEFORE BRUCE EVEN GOT TO CALIFORNIA
IT'S A FUCKING CONSPIRACY
Also, Bryzgalov played like poop and Hiller stood on his head. This was an overtime loss. Br00tal. Fuck.
We play the Canes tonight. All right then.
Bring it on.
Go Pens.
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Hello, friends.
Every time the Pens play the Caps, it turns into a Big Deal.
A lot of people have had a lot of things to say about the decline and fall of Bruce Boudreau, and even though I'm not a huge fan of the guy, I'm not about to rag on him too much here. I hope he finds success in Anaheim.
I'll pour out some wing sauce for you, Bruce.
But while Boudreau is gone, the Capitals remain. And so do all their obnoxious fans.
We here at PH like to call certain players fat, which is most definitely deserved.
Dustin Byfuglien. Super fat.
Brad Richards. Extra fat.
Chris Osgood. Ridiculously fat.
I'd like to thank the Academy. And fried chicken.
But the Capitals seem to suffer from a fatness that's grown beyond normal proportions.
I would characterize it as a fatness of the soul.
A hyper-obesity of character.
An adipose arrogance that causes them to come tantalizingly close to achieving their goals, but to inevitably fall short at the last moment.
There's a reason why I love watching the Caps lose a game. Or a playoff series, for that matter.
Will the Caps team we see tonight suffer from the same problems we've seen in the past?
Will Ovechkin remain a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, buried beneath a thick layer of fat?
Will Nicklas Backstrom continue his campaign of creeping Swedish evil?
PREGAME SHENANIGANS
The comparative Crosby/Ovechkin graphic shows really all you need to understand about this matchup tonight. Sid has almost as many points as Ovechkin despite only playing five games of the season.
Fans at the Verizon Center are also apparently taunting Sid with signs. Stay classy, Caps fans.
OMG STAN SAVRAN JUST CALLED BOUDREAU "BARBECUE BRUCE"
Coach Disco doesn't think Ovechkin's in a slump. "He's still dangerous." Dangerous to an appetizer sampler, I'm sure.
Watch, now that I've said that he's going to really turn it on and destroy our collective wills to live while everyone in that building wearing red is going to act like they just won the Cup or something.
Errey is wearing some pretty excellent glasses. He looks like a slightly bewildered professor.
Despres is up from Wilkes-Barre and we'll see how he does. Good for him, playing in his first NHL game and all.
FIRST PERIOD
Holy crap, you guys, I actually saw the opening faceoff of the game.
They are seriously booing for Sidney Crosby. I give up, Washington. I was thinking that it was good that you had a team who didn't suck so more people would care about hockey, but you Caps fans can go explode.
We seem to be spending a lot of time in the Caps zone. I'm not complaining, I'm just saying.
OMG CRAIG ADAMS SCORES HIS SECOND GOAL OF THE SEASON 1-0 Pens
In the replay, we can see that Arron Asham set this pass up beautifully. And then he takes on Erskine in a fight at center ice and...acquits himself very well, I think. Now all Asham needs to do is score a goal of his own and he'll get a Gordie Howe hat trick.
Ovechkin is apparently going into Red Hulk Smash Destroy mode and smashes Craig Adams into the boards.
The Caps are looking very confused and disjointed.
They can't get plays set up and they can't get into the Penguins zone with any degree of control over the puck.
I understand that they're trying to adjust to a new system and I get that Mike Green isn't playing, either.
Of course, just as I wrote that, the Caps spent a sphincter-clenching minute and a half throwing everything they could at Fleury.
But when Fleury's in Kill Mode, he will destroy everything. He is a Death Flower and he will end you.
(please stay in kill mode fleury)
The power play is looking...better. I mean, I know that doesn't take much, compared to last year, but it's improving.
Back and forth, back and forth. Both teams get some really good chances but no one can put it in the net.
FIRST PERIOD AWARDS
Best Helper goes to my dog Barney, who is assisting with this recap by putting his face on my keyboard because he's mad that I'm not petting him.
I can't resist that face
Slowest U-Turn goes to the entire Capitals team. You guys have four shots on goal? I mean, come on, really?
SECOND PERIOD
The recap of this period will be slightly marred by my getting to enjoy some delicious homemade pizza for dinner, but also having to eat it very carefully, because I just got a new crown put on my tooth.
And while I was writing that explanation, Jason Chimera backhands it into the net. 1-1
I'm really not surprised that the Caps are playing in the way that they are. I'm sure it's tough to adjust to a new coach and a new way of doing things, and this is only Hunter's second game as head coach.
Steiggy and Errey take a Moment to share their love of Simon Despres. I get the feeling that he could Crash Their Nets any Friday.
Ovechkin's fatness gets him into trouble as he gets penalized for goalie interference. However, nothing happens aside from the fans grumbling.
Steiggy chimes in with the Fun Fact that TK has never scored against the Caps. I totally believe it.
Does the Verizon Center seriously have folding chairs in their penalty boxes? How low-rent is that?
I think I might have found something lamer than the Pens power play, and that's the Capitals power play.
The second period ends with the Pens having 52 seconds of power play left, but without any more scoring.
SECOND PERIOD AWARDS
There are none. Save for the brave souls who decide they actually want to go to PirateFest.
THIRD PERIOD
The third period commences with the remainder of the power play, but nothing happens until Chris Kunitz catches a great pass from TK, of all people, and made it look super easy. 2-1 Pens
Also, Simon Despres got an assist on the goal, which is his first point in the NHL. Good for him!
The Caps respond to this turn of events by getting angry and frustrated. Not their best look, I must say. It results in shoving and rage.
No shots for the Capitals yet in the third period, and there's only 11 minutes left in the game. I mean, I don't want them to have any more shots, but it's kind of ridiculous.
Wow, Semin managed to get the puck right into the crease, and Fleury was even down on the other side, but he didn't shoot at all. There's gotta be something going on with this Caps team that none of us can see or understand. Because if it's a Penguins player in that situation, we're scoring a goal.
Kunitz demonstrates why he is a Superior Human by checking a Caps player, hard, into the boards and simultaneously passing the puck to Sid for a good scoring chance. It doesn't result in anything, but it doesn't suck.
The Caps are playing with "a shortage of confidence," which is painfully obvious to everyone who isn't wearing red.
They look lost and sad. Like someone stole their puppy.
I'm not trying to shortchange the Penguins here, either. They're playing very well. It just...doesn't seem fair, in some ways.
With the final shots 35 to 17, the Penguins win 2-1.
THIRD PERIOD AWARDS
Freshest Face goes to Simon Despres. I hope he continues to kick ass and take names.
Number One Star goes to Paul Martin. That is an award notable enough to be awarded here as well.
Up next: Carolina and the Staal Brothers Drinking Game on Saturday. Be there or be lame.
Go Pens.
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I. Intros are for suckas.
1. But still seen as necessary in some internet societies.
2. Like a literary overture
a. themes will continue throughout post.
b. this letter bullet is necessary if I want to have an "a" point.
3. Often tells readers whether or not writer will be "phoning it in."
a. such as right now.
b. why can't a lettered bullet just stand alone, you fascists.
II. Intense hatred has, historically, led to fists being flung.
1. Goalie fights are the best.
a. however rare.
b. display true beauty.
2. Some fighting styles are lame.
a. the "bear hug" tactic.
b. romantic dancing style.
3. Tyler Kennedy and Sean Avery are amazing together.
a. we can't say there was a specific winner.
b. TK won our hearts.
c. shit yes, two fights in as many minutes.
III. Blingee deficiency.
1. Bringin' it back.
a. get some sunglasses.
b. and powerful narcotics.
2. Yours are welcome as well.
IV. Sidney Crosby is an inspiration.
1. He and James Neal are probably in love.
2. Perfect feed from Sid lets Neal land it in the back of the net.
a. hellz yeah.
b. lookin' good, Jimmy.
3. I'd let him or James Neal escort me to prom.
a. whaddya say?
b. may we call you Jimmy, sir?
VI. Worst second period.
1. Worse than second period swim class.
a. you smell like chlorine all day.
b. no time to dry hair before chem.
c. Jimmy will never take me to prom now.
2. Fat jokes are therapeutic.
a. Callahan cries into twinkies (1-1)
b. Mitchell rolls around in oreos. (1-2)
c. Richards really is fat. (1-3)
d. Gaborik sweats pure lard. (1-4)
e. let's tease them until they get eating disorders.
3. Sobbing into your wine and vodka mixture is okay sometimes.
a. cake flavored vodka is gross.
b. marshmallow is okay.
VII. IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN
1. DADADADAAAAA
a. DADADADADAAAAAAA
b. DADADADAAAAAA
2. DADADADAAAAA
a. DADADADADADADAAAAA
b. that's all I know of the song.
c. outlining is balls, when is lunch?
VIII. Nothing ever gets better.
1. James Neal and Geno try to take the pain away. (2-4)
2. The third period stings a lot less in some ways.
a. in others, it gives us just enough hope to feel let down.
b. we won't hold that against Dupes. (3-4)
IX. Never losing again.
1. Obvs.
2. Winning the Cup.
a. clearly.
b. haters gonna hate.
3. Go Pens.
The high (or hangover) from last night was probably still palpable when you sat down to watch this game. You didn't even realize what you were in for. A classic Saturday night in Canada, a media circus.
Not going to be one of those normal games, is it? Not even a normal game against the Habs where everyone does something shitty and someone wins by one extremely fluky goal scored in the 2nd period and then nothing else happens and you get really bored and angry and stop paying attention at some point in the 3rd when you remember you have Oreos. Nope. Not that kind of game.
FASTEST BULLSHIT
Malkin scored 21 seconds in on some powerful, world-shattering passionate move.
Everyone was so upset that they couldn't even get a pic with Gene's face in it. But rest assured, everyone was really happy.
Travis Moen then came back and scored some more shit. Off of a heinous giveaway.
Can't find a pic of this anywhere. But it happened, too. It was 1-1. Not necessarily your favorite way to start the rodeo. The bulls are late. Etc. IT ALL JUST HAPPENED SO FAST
HARDEST PILL TO SWALLOW
Paul Martin looks on in angst as more weird stuff happens.
Everyone said it was going to be "one of those nights."
I guess we just didn't know how bad.
Kris Letang is getting messed up by a Kostitsyn and Price is in true Cam Ward Memorial Trophy form. Subban acts totally shocked and injured when he gets slashed, that's a total penalty, but Fleury is in Erik Cole's head, whispering sweet nothings to his pucks. The entire city of Montreal boos an offside call. We can't figure out if this is preferable to half the fanbase already leaving since their team is up 2-1.
Might as well just go home.
CHRIS KUNITZ STARS IN: FUCK THE POLICE
Kunitz scores an almost goal but everyone says he punched it in from Toronto. No idea, ROOT didn't show any angles proving that it wasn't just a deflection. But we'll deal.
At least, until Patches gets another shot off and it's deflected in by Erik Cole. Two repaired vertebrae on that goal. He's building himself up to be a real comic book villain at this point.
The young soldier, previously brought back from the dead, corrupted by the evil around him. . .
Just. . .balls.
MOST EGREGIOUS OFFENSE TO THE GAME OF HOCKEY AND ITS GOODNESS
Apparently, more offside calls. You can see the Habs fans getting realllllly indignant about this, images swirling in their heads of their team getting 10 goals. Fever dreams.
The Pens own a power play for 2 straight minutes practically, but nothing happens yet again. The Habs are just being dicks. We have not a leg to stand on.
PaulMart makes a sweet play to keep a puck in, and Dupuis rips it into the net. Redemption is real. The city of Montreal disagrees.
Sidney Crosby looks on evilly as Price tries to talk himself out of crying and remind himself of the grape blunt wrappers he has in his gym bag, which will be very comforting later on.
3-2. This is a real hockey game again. The Habs fans are officially booing the Pens for playing defense. After the second, all you can hear on replays of the Pens doing something is an awful rumble. Like a disenfranchised army on the other side of the city walls.
MOST PEARL CLUTCHING
Everyone gets really up in arms on both sides when a Kunitz breakway ends up with a puck in the net. But he made contact with Price that knocked the puck in, so that's not a goal. Kunitz has already had something like 4 goals taken away this season. Both 2 goals in the same game. Possibly more that we're not remembering--maybe 5 goals overall. Insane.
There was some incidental stick contact on Subban by James Neal after Subban kicked James Neal in the legs or something. THAT IS A PENALTY IN THE NATIONAL HOCKEY LEAGUE. Everyone acts like Subban just survived a gunshot wound to the face.
Luckily, nothing comes of it.
Joe Vitale has one of his "I'm taking over the universe brb" shifts after the penalty bullshit evens out again, which seems to wake the Pens up even more.
Sid, Gene, and Staal are out together for a shift. What is reality. Malkin hits Staal with a pass up ice, and he makes very good use of it. This goal is a big deal, and everyone wants to give Sid an assist on it. WHY NOT
WHERE ARE YOUR PEARLS NOW, QUEBEC
HUGEST UNICORN REVOLUTION
Of all people, Max Pacioretty is the one who decides to throw a blindside headshot to Kris Letang while he is trying to play hockey.
Patches came back from having his entire back/neck totally fucked up by Chara and that was the scariest thing of all time. We felt for him.
Now, we know that even the fallen and victimized make mistakes. Particularly in Montreal.
Blood everywhere. We later learn that it was Tanger's nose that was broken.
But spilling unicorn blood is one of the most terrible, evil things you can possibly do. To hurt something so pure and good is to damage the soul. Just ask Hagrid.
But the look on Letang's face seems to prove that he's going to be back.
The rest of the period is spent being super angry. Sid takes on the entire team by himself and almost wins.
But overtime looms.
And Letang is back for OT, covered in his own blood. Looks like he doesn't give a fuck.
Blah blah blah blah. OT goes as usual. You're expecting something nasty. What you don't expect is for all the world's unicorns to stand up and say, "We're mad as hell and we're not going to take it anymore."
The whole game, in case you didn't remember, was all the Habs just being major dicks. Subban attacked Neal at some point and there was no call, meanwhile Orpik was called for roughing for standing up for himself. Rubbing your dick on someone in Montreal = not a penalty.
The Unicorn Guild is up to the challenge.
Pens crash the net. And if you play hockey in the NHL you know you play to the whistle. THERE WAS NO WHISTLE, even though Price had the puck covered briefly, there was no whistle. That's on the official, not on the Pens who dug for the puck in the pile. You don't stop playing, ever, until you hear the whistle, because that's what you are coached to do. It might mean someone made a mistake, but that's what you actually do when you care about playing the game well.
The puck was found, it came up to the front, and Letang was right there to put it through Price's legs and the inimitable Valley of Tears.
Look at Neal full of LOLs.
Carey Price is all mad.
Sweet, sweet anger.
PENS WIN
4-3 OT
LOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL @ THIS
INDIVIDUAL AWARD: BUTTS
what a photo.
ALTERNATIVE THREE STARS
1. Sidney Crosby: look who's back to 20 minutes a night already. 20:55 for those following along at home. Also ripped Nick Foligno in his postgame interview, like a boss. Also, 6 shots.
2. Carey Price's sticks: he broke like 2 of them and 1 of those times was on purpose. Poor little guys.
gif courtesy of RMas_71 on Twitter
3. Marc-Andre Fleury: was there when it was really important, so suck it.
Also, don't you ever wonder why the game stats literature looks weird in Montreal? Then you realize: all of this shit is in French. It looks classy but you have to wonder why they don't do it for all the games. Like the old hockey cards that used to be in French and English. Even like Panthers cards.
Also, Dan Bylsma's mustache earns an assist on the night.
unfff
go pens
We insist that you accept this photo as proof that Kim and Zoë are together (along with cohorts Nikos and Jon) in the viewing of this game.
Our spirits are in the forms of Bob Errey, and Joe Vitale (who is apparently "going at" Nick Foligno right now).
We also have a cat. His name is Steve.
"A couple of Italians going nose to nose there!!!"
This is real life.
We're making tea. We can probably include alcohol in the tea.
Any advice?
There aren't any pics up from this game yet. So here's a picture of Ken Hitchcock. Who appears to have lost some Weight but no Skin.
Gobble gobble.
We're sorry Jared Cowen that we have to destroy you.
And we admit that we have no idea who Kaspars Daugaviņš actually is.
We miss Gonchar.
and we do in fact steal bandwidth from talk-sports.net
DOES SERGEI GONCHAR HAVE A GIRLFRIEND
DISCUSS WITH YOUR FRIENDS.
The goal is to become belligerent.
Go Pens.
We care deeply about the Penguins and everything, but today erryone is in transit.
Zoe is somewhere in airport purgatory.
Mary is en route to the dirty Jerz (Mary, trust me, I know what it's like and I feel your pain.)
I'm makin' my way back to my FC Trash origins.
It's allegedly the biggest party night of the year.
The Pens tried to live it up but got a little messy.
Brooks Orpik killed only ten men.
TK bought a new pony ranch in France - wtf, how will he get there to enjoy the ponies.
Sid got drunk and thought we were playing the Savannah Skunks, and boy did he try to fuck one of those guys up.
BUT SRSLY.
IT'S GOOD TO MAKE JOKES AGAIN, YOU GUYS.
We're not going to be pissy because we lost in OT to the Blues. We got a point, it was the Blues, and MAF is already slamming stuffing and giggling uncontrollably into his second glass of wine.
We're just as happy as he is.
Now. Give us some Iron City and the cranberry sauce and get out of our faces, Blues. Tomorrow you'll just be some team that beat the Penguins once. We'll still be the best damn hockey team in the world.
Go Pens.
