My circle of family and friends, my fircle if you will, have been discussing the Penguins possibly leaving the Burgh for months now with each conversation going like this:
PittGirl Fircle Member: I’m really worried the Pens are going to leave.
PittGirl: The Pens are not going to leave.
PittGirl Fircle Member: I don’t know PittGirl. It really sounds like they might leave.
PittGirl: The Pens are not going to leave. Shut up.
Now? I’m not so confident.
After years of shitastic play, finally we’re a contender again. We’ve got some fresh meat in the godlike forms of Crosby, Staal, and Malkin. We’ve got experience in Recchi (who I worshipped as a high schooler). We’ve got a Neanderthal enforcer in the form of Laraque. We’re winning games in exciting shootout fashion (The shootout is of course the best thing to happen to hockey since Mario came back). And NOW they’re ready to head to Vegas or Kansas City.
I’m going to put my anger at Mario aside for a moment to become a sobbing mass of begging hotness at his feet.
Really. PLEASE don’t take the Pens.
There’s a last ditch meeting scheduled for Thursday and if the Gov’nah, Lukey, and Danny Boy don’t make a deal to keep the Pens here … well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but you can be damn sure it will involve a remote-controlled pigeon.