First, let me start by saying that Fleury’s falling glove save to keep the game 1-0 was the most beautiful thing I have seen a goalie do since Brent Johnson punched Rick DiPietro’s lights out (hockey makes me violent).
The last period of yesterday’s Pens loss to Tampa [ptooie ptooie] was quite possibly the most frustrating period of hockey I’ve ever watched.
It wasn’t like we were losing 8-2 and therefore I could have resigned myself early to the fact that we were going to lose and that our season was over, so that by the time the final second ticked away, I would be all, “Oh, well. Can’t win ’em all.”
An entire game 7 third period spent watching the Pens trailing by one goal — JUST ONE GOAL — is frustrating enough; ending that period on a power play with a two-man advantage, watching the sands fall through the hourglass faster than you can say “these are the days of our lives,” and the Pens not being able to do anything with it was beyond frustrating.
It was like trying to thread a needle, but instead of thread you’re using yarn, and also, the needle is a pin.
See if that doesn’t frustrate you to the point of wanting to throw a fish bowl against the wall. (Don’t worry. I didn’t. Because I don’t have fish. But if I DID have fish, God rest their souls. Hockey makes me violent.)
See if that doesn’t make you turn the channel to Repo Games a few times to calm your nerves. (That show makes me worry for America.)
See if that doesn’t make you want to projectile-spew bile of both the literal and proverbial kind at your TV and at that punk ass bitch Ryan Malone (HOCKEY MAKES ME VIOLENT).
But all that said, all anger and ranting aside, you cannot escape the fact that the Pens fought long and hard and they did it without their stars, and that lack of scoring power finally drove the final nail in the coffin that is this hockey season.
You know how you go to a Pirates game and you’re like, “I don’t know any of you people out there?” Remember how a portion of this Pens season was like that? “Who are you and why are you wearing a Penguins sweater? Somebody call security.”
THAT team made it to the first round of playoffs before their wounds were finally too much to bear, and clearly, the biggest most bleedingest wound that would get them through triage in critical condition and straight into the OR is the one they suffered to the power play.
Holy. Poop. of. Oozing. Suck.
Next year will be better. We’ll stop the hemorrhaging wounds by plugging them with Crosby and Malkin. They’ll get healthy. Crosby’s brain will start behaving.
We’ll get the band back together and they’ll make beautiful goal-siren music.
I wonder if they’ll let me sing backup. Here’s my audition: [Ahem] WOOWEE WOOWEE WOOWEE WOOWEE!
Did I get the job?
P.S. I’d like a cookie for working a soap opera reference into a Penguins post. Make it a dozen. And make them donuts.