If you told me on June 2, 2008 that I would someday want to punch this face in the actual face, I’d have told you to shut your whore mouth.
Fast forward to 2011, and here I am, wanting to punch this face so hard in the face that it needs a new face.
Whoa. Violence. I has it.
Ugh. The fickle nature of sports. I love you as long as you’re wearing my uniform, but don the uniform of a rival team and eventually I’ll call you a whiner and a diver and I’ll demand your balls on a stick while talking bad about you, your mother, and maybe your pets.
I’m not proud of it. I want to keep loving Ryan. He’s a Burgh boy. He fought so hard for us, remember? Remember how much you used to love him, too?
And now he’s one game away from stealing this series from us right in his hometown. Ergo, PUNCH.
But put that boy back into a Pens uniform and I would strip for goals faster than you can say “shut your five hole.”
That sounded dirty.
I am too easy.
I’m not ready for hockey to be over.
Let’s go Pens!