Pens 4, Sens 0 -- Position Stake. Apply Mallet. Repeat As Necessary

Usually when the Un-Dead sleep at home," as he spoke he made a comprehensive sweep of his arm to designate what to a vampire was `home', "their face show what they are, but this so sweet that was when he not Un-Dead he go back to the nothings of the common dead. There is no malign there, see, and so it make hard that I must kill him in his sleep."

This turned my blood cold, and it began to dawn upon me that I was accepting Van Helsing's theories. But if he were really dead, what was there of terror in the idea of killing him?

He looked up at me, and evidently saw the change in my face, for he said almost joyously, "Ah, you believe now?"

I answered, "Do not press me too hard all at once. I am willing to accept. How will you do this bloody work?"

"I shall cut off his head and fill his mouth with garlic, and I shall drive a stake through his body." --Dracula, Bram Stoker [slightly redacted]

The Lonely High Without Which The Result Would Have Been Much Much Worse:

• Screw Obi-Wan! Help me Lord Vader, you are our only hope: Okay, the first goal was a little weak. Aaaand I was getting a little peeved that he spent most of the first spitting in the eye of Sir Isaac Newton (see file: Inertia, 1st law thereof). But he managed to turn it around and by the end, there were fleeting glimpses of the The Dark Lord we had come to know and love last fall. And it's a damn good thing, otherwise we'd all be hip deep in gloating Pens fans. And it's the only thing we can pin any kind of confidence to, going into game 2. If a goalie redeems himself in the forest, does anybody hear?

The Truly Shitty Lows That Stood Out From The Merely Craptacular:

• Let's go to the replay Bob!: "If Reds and Mesz can finally put their inexplicable and really fucking maddening regular season habits behind them and start playing the way they can and have in the past, we have a chance." I wrote that more than six hours before game time, and it took Wade Redden 1:08 to destroy any and all hope of it actually happening. Next time Bryan, make sure the plane takes off without him.

• Juuuust a bit outside!: I have no idea how, but the final Senator shot count was 26. Just think. If even half of the 21 OTHER shots we took had come anywhere near the Penguins goal, Fleury may have actually broken out into a sweat! Wouldn't that have been cool?

• Hello Charlottetown, you're on the air: Two two-man advantages. Yep, the boys were two men up for a full minute...twice. Surly, I thought, we'll get back into it now! Goals? Zip. Scoring chances? Two. As our favourite shout-out artist from the land of potatoes and Green Gables, PEISenators commented, "Maybe if they get a 5 on 2 they could generate something." Personally, I'm still holding out for a way to decline penalties.

• I'm sorry, perhaps you didn't get the memo: Neiler, buddy, you've always been one of my favourites. It pains me to call you out. Really, it does. But...um...JUST WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU?!? Of all the games I've seen you play, playoff, regular season, hell, even exhibition, that was the single most pathetic, non-contact, zero impact piece of crap I have ever seen from you. Christ man! If you're not willing to pay the price, than just why in the name of sweet Jesus am I wasting my fucking time holding out even the slimmest of hopes of winning this series?

We Now Pause For A Special Rant:

In all the many years that Gary Fucking Roberts has tormented us, I have accused him of many things, most of which involved sexual congress with livestock, but I have never accused him of being a coward. Until now.

You're a coward Gary. You want to hit a rookie from behind with less than 90 seconds left in a game you've already won? Fine. But you'd damned well better be ready for the instant retribution that will bring. Instead, you skated away from the scrum and waited until you were surrounded by officials before making a grand show of dropping your gloves, and elbow pads and helmet knowing full well no Senator, depleted the team already is, was going to risk a suspension by going through a linesman to get at your shit eating mug. That was bush league Roberts, and you know it. And when A-Train or Neiler (or...Gratz?) breaks your fucking back with a cross check to the kidneys at some point in this series, I will gladly put aside my natural disgust at such cheap shots and drink to the end of your career. Bank on it.

Creamy Middle:

I stopped into one of my favourite pubs yesterday afternoon, and naturally the talk amidst the bar regulars turned to this game. I said "There is no way on God's green earth we win tonight." Took a lot of grief for that. But I was both right and wrong. Sure, we lost. But I figured we'd lose because the Penguins would be out-of-their-minds pumped about playing the first game of the series at home in front of a crazy loud home crowd and that there'd be no way we'd be able to withstand the sheer adrenaline the Kiddie Korps would be running on. But that didn't happen. If I hadn't had the yammering vocals of Jim Hughson constantly reminding me that this was "game one of the Eastern Conference Quarter Finals", I wouldn't have noticed the difference from any other regular season game we sucked moose balls in this season. The Pens came out tentative, the crowd nervous. And we didn't take advantage. If the same thing happens tomorrow, I'm starting my yard work way earlier than I wanted to.

Of course, if we win Game 2 and get the split...well, that means all is sunshine and light, and that we still own your asses! As long as Gary Fucking Roberts leaves the ice on a stretcher.

Flightless Bird Season Is Now Officially Open

Flyers 2, Penguins 0. Welcome back Sydney. Did you miss us?

Bruins 2, Sens 1: Who Cares? We're In And Momentum Is Overrated Anyway

So here's the deal. We are either the most dangerous 7th or 8th seed to ever qualify for the playoffs, or we are right where we deserve to be and will be an easy first round hors d'oeuvre for (pick one) the Penguins or Habs. There is no in between. Either the Hockey Gods have finally been appeased by our many many sacrifices over the last four months (although, in hindsight, I really think we needed more blood), or They are simply toying with us in order to inflict even greater pain and suffering. I'm not sure what grievous sin we may have committed in Their eyes to deserve such cruelty, but I'm pretty sure it involves one of Rayzor's suits.

The Slightly More Elevated Lows:

• He would prefer we called it "fashionably late": Hi Jason! Nice of you to show up! I'd like to congratulate you on your first (intentional) body contact of the year. Yep, nice little crunch on the B's forward at our blue line there. And the way you chased down the puck to try and negate an icing in the first period? Fantastic. Didn't know you had that kind of speed. After all, we hadn't seen it before. There is still the little issue of the jackass turnovers...but, "HA-HA!! that's just our Jason!", right? And, sure, it was Game 82, and three of our top forwards were out...but hey! Glad you and your emotions could finally make it. Will you be staying a while? Can I take your coat?

• WHO DISTURBS MY SLUMBER?!?!?: Not sure if it was intentional or not, but way to go Sens fans! For most of the first period, you made enough noise to make me look up from the depths of my despair to make sure we weren't playing the Leafs. Of course, all of that cheering must have really tuckered you out, so I completely understand why you all took naps in the second period. And your boisterous reaction to the announcement that we had made the playoffs in the most pathetic way possible was also quite nice. So go ahead. Bust loose! Give yourselves a tepid one-handed ovation!

• Hey Rocky! Watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat: Shean Donovan must not know his own terrifying strength. How else to explain the first period holding penalty he incurred by reaching up, waaaay up and placing his weak hand on the shoulder pad of 6' 9" Zedno Chara thus exerting enough force to cause one of the strongest players ever to lace up the skates to violently fall over backwards in an explosion of flailing arms and tossed equipment. Wow. I mean strength of truly superhuman proportions can be the only possible explanation for that, can't it? Gosh, golly that was impressive. I know Dan Marouelli was impressed. You remember Dan, don't you?

The Really Really Low. Really:

• Insanity (n): The act of repeatedly doing the same thing, while hoping for a different result: Our top shut down defensive pairing have garnered themselves the combined name of Christon Phillichenkov (TM-Scarlett Ice), so inspiring has their work been together. I would propose a second tandem be thusly honoured: Andrade Meszedden. Never, in the annals of the sport, have two season-long train wrecks of defensive incompetence been so inexplicably intertwined. When they are teamed together, as they almost always are, their refusal to take the man, or initiate any body contact whatsoever along with their utter disregard for sound positioning, their laughably weak puck protection and their constant inattention to where their forwards are on the ice, truly is a sight to behold. Every fucking time.

• If only there were some way to get this little black object into that big net like thingy: All day, you heard it. This was the most important game of the year. "Game 7" I believe you called it, Jason. We had to win. Our playoff lives depended on it. "There's no tomorrow!" "We can't leave anything on the ice!" "We'll need everybody at 110%!" Ottawa shots on goal after the second period? Twelve.
  

Creamy Middle:

This might just be the booze talking, but I can't remember ever feeling so underwhelmed and scared shitless going into the first round of the playoffs. I searched in desperation last night for a glimpse, a sign, anything at all that the boys actually felt that sense of urgency that a successful playoff run requires and upon which I could hang some hope. Nothing. Not a goddamned thing. Maybe I'll feel better before they start next week, but for now, I'm booking some tee-offs before all of the good spots are taken.

Up Next:

Either Pittsburgh or Montreal, starting, in all probability, Wednesday. There is one thing for which we should be eternally grateful, however. Since there is no way we can finish higher than seventh, at least we won't have our asses handed to us by the Caps (sorry Hartolina, you had your chance last night).

Hey Look! It's Bob McKenzie! And He Has A Badly Informed Opinion! Um, Sort Of. Almost. Gosh!

We have seen it a thousand times. A thousand times, from every conceivable angle, in every possible context, computer enhanced, blown up, and digitally mastered. And in every single circumstance, we are left...NAY!...we must come to but one conclusion. There was more than one shooter on the grassy knoll...Wait, what?!?

Now some of you may be aware of the simmering controversy (by which I mean there will be several strongly worded emails in NHL inboxes today from Conswella, the Brodeur's cleaning lady. At least three. Maybe four.) that Tom Preissing's goal last night, which ultimately proved the winner, should not have counted due to goaltender interference committed by Mike Fisher. Of course New Jersey thinks it was, Ottawa doesn't and this fan thinks Marty paid the price for a badly executed dive attempt (pssst...it helps if you fall down...just sayin'...).

Well fret no more children as none other than Robert "The Scottish Don" McKenzie weighs in with the definitive interpretation...sort of...well, maybe not...wouldn't want to risk the whole "Insider" status... Um...ENJOY!

Now based on our own analysis, there could have been a 'no-goal' call based on goaltender interference.

Rule 69.4 of the NHL's rule book states, "If an attacking player initiates any contact with a goalkeeper, other than incidental contact, while the goalkeeper is outside his goal crease, and a goal is scored, the goal will be disallowed."

Now Brodeur was situated with one foot outside his own crease and Fisher was also outside of the crease. The only debate is whether there was incidental or intentional contact. When the referee sees that clearly under normal circumstances, he could blow the whistle and disallow the goal without a penalty because the goalie was simply not able to do his job.

Your honour, please note that the witness says that there "could" have been a no-goal call, not that their "should" have been one. Also, we would like to draw the court's attention that the same scintillating decisiveness is demonstrated by the sentence "he could blow the whistle and disallow the goal...".

But finally, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask you to consider the statement that "because the goalie was simply not able to do his job" the goal should not have counted. Are we, ordinary hockey fans, to assume that this and this alone should be a basis to disallow a goal? Well I would submit the following: Ottawa enters the Devils zone on the rush. Mr. Brodeur, without any provocation, strips down to his jock strap, breaks into "Three Little Girls" from "The Mikado" and throws himself at the timekeeper, resulting in a 0.2 second delay in clock operation. The Senators subsequently score on that rush, a rush where the goalie "was simply not able to do his job". Should that goal be called back?

Please examine the tape. Back...and to the left. Back...and to the left. Back...and to the left. This was a goal.

G'night!

What's A Goal, What's Not A Goal [TSN.ca]

Feelin' Easy. Easy Like A Sunday Morning

Alright, we've had a chance to sleep on last night's result and after a brief session with Legal, I've been allowed back to play.

So...what to make of last night? Well, it's not quite the disaster it felt like at the (beer and despair fueled) time. We battled back from 2-0 down to tie it. We probably should have won it in OT but Brodeur stood on his head. A bad bounce off of a Corvo clearing attempt lost it for us. And more importantly, we're coming home with home ice.

The fine gentlemen at Battle Of Ontario (where I spent most of the game on a pretty amusing open thread...I'll recommend it to anyone) keeps it all in perspective.

So, we're okay. For now. Promise.

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Raving Lunatic

The Running Smart-Assness of the 2nd and 3rd periods will not be available. Unfortunately the author is filled with fear and loathing for what he imagines is about to transpire and the Five For Smiting legal department has deemed a hiatus necessary to mitigate any potential libel issues. We apologize for the inconvenience.

In a completely unrelated note, Five For Smiting would like to offer an apology to Bill McCreary and his family. You are not, in fact, a fuckstick. You are an idiot.

Thank you,

Five For Smiting LLC

Game 2, Period 1 -- We Thank You For Disgracing Our Nation

-- Of the 79 people in the stands in Jersey, a small few are booing the Canadian anthem. Alffie says to self: "Hey, are we were playing this game in Montreal?"

-- Rather pedestrian version of the Star Speckled Banana. Might be because the singer is a fat white guy. C'mon, would it kill ya to go a little Mariah for a bit?

-- I sit corrected. They just mentioned that the game was actually sold out. First sell out this year too. Congrats Swamp Dwellers! Of course you deserve a team...especially one that has won 3 cups in 10 years. Winnipeg is very happy for you.

-- Here we go...

-- Millen mentions Brodeur has a brand new glove. Well I guess he fixed that little 4-goals-to-the-glove-side problem, now didn't he?

-- Goal Jersey on the PP. And we now settle in for three hours of trap hockey...

-- Rayzor does not look sharp...0-8 looms, me thinks. Don't panic. We'll be okay...as long as the beer holds out.

-- Bob Cole keeps referring to Ottawa as "they", but the inflection is hilarious. Kind of like the way your 73 year old aunt refers to gay couple who just moved in next door..."Well, THEY're very affectionate...aren't THEY?" Hey...come to think of it...I think Bob Cole is my 73 year old aunt!

-- Are you fucking kidding me?!?!? Jersey goal with two goddamn TENTHS of a second in the period! SUMBITCH! On a 5-on-3 to boot. A 5-on-3, it should be noted, was the result of an absolute BULL-FUCKING-SHIT!! slashing call on Fisher. Hey McCreary!! Why don't you check with Neil and Volchenkov and their partially severred hands if you want to know what a fucking slash is you fuckstick!

-- Man...I gotta calm down.

Eastern Semi, Game 1, 3rd Period -- Random Thoughts From A Very Nervous Mind

--HEY!! Axe Shower Gel People!! For the VERY last time, I would much rather see Maria do the girl's backside than some greasy fry guy! Get it?!? Um...but keep that Schoolgirl/Beach/Sorority/Poker commercial. That was very, very...er...interesting. And warm.

--GOAL! Redden! Breathing...loosened...bronchial tubes...clearing...acne...remains.

--Where the hell are all the fans?? Hey Lou! There's probably some of those Oscar seat-fillers around and looking for work. Do something would ya? I mean...Jeez...this is just embarrassin'...

--12 minutes left and we are now in Trap Hell. Ottawa to protect a two goal lead...and Jersey, well, mostly because the team has been together so long they don't know how to play any other way. If you listen close you can hear t.v. sets all over the Greater Trenton Area being turned off. And Gary Bettman weeping. You can hear that too. Suhhhweeeeeet....

--8 minutes left. CBC is plugging a soccer game, and then it hits me: Hey,Toronto has a Major League Soccer team!! Well, good for youuuuu!! How adorable. Good luck with that. Really.

--7 minutes to go and Jersey just about scored on an exact replica of Friesen's Game 7 goal in 2003. I sense the Karmic Fates aligning against us. I tell ya, you plop your home arena in ONE Indian burial ground...I mean...C'MON! We said we're sorry!!

--5 minutes to go. I would probably buy one of those And-And-AND Bars...but then again, I'm just a 36 year old brainwashed by corporate whores for most of his --WHERE'S THE BEEF!!--life.

--4:30 left. Just saw an update: San Jose is beating Detroit 2-0, in Hockeytown. The Wings equipement guys have locked Stevie Y in a closet to keep him from getting on the ice. "Dammit Steve, when the Wings retire a number, they fucking MEAN it!!"

--1:25 left. Time out Jersey, Brodeur on the bench. Reminded of Bowser And Blue. What does a Canadian call choking the chicken? Pulling the goalie.

--29.2 seconds...Goal Jersey. Oh. My. Fucking. God. This is NOT happening. 5-4 Sens.

--0:06...faceoff outside Jersey line. Spezz wins it.

--Aaaaaannnnd....scene! Jebus-Jumped-Upped Christ on a side car. WAY closer than that had any right to be...and yet, oddly anti-climactic. We're up 1-0 in the series, taken home ice away, and can expect to get right clobbered in game two on Saturday.

With that, I will bid you a good evening. I'll get my head around almost blowing a four goal lead, I'll google some funny (and very offensive) reference material involving New Jersey/Trenton/the Mafia and/or Lou Lamiarello and be back tomorrow. Big picture kids...5 wins. 11 to go.

G'Night!

Well This Is Obviously Don Cherry's Fault. Right? Am I Right People?

This is actually my fourth attempt at this post. It was 4-0 and we were flying high! Then it was 4-3 and we were sinking low. The Lucifers (yeah, I know, pretty lame. I'll try to do better before the end of the series) pressed and pressed but the second ended at that same 4-3 score. So after the high and the low, we settled for the creamy middle.

As I catch my breath, nervously awaiting the third (and flipping through my rolodex for Crazy Voodoo Priestess Woman...oh, we're not finished yet Brodeur. Oh no. Not by a long shot. You and me.), I go through the first two periods in my head, looking for the turning point. Where was the spark that got Jersey going? And then it hits me: Don Cherry said the game was over. After the first period.

So, the inevitable conclusion here, is that if we lose, it's the Leafs fault!

I knew it! See you after the game. I hope. Unless the Leafs get to me first...

Death March Of The Penguins.

When game time rolled around, roughly 3 hours ago now, we debated whether we should do a quasi-live post on this game, as we did for 3 of the first 4 games. After much soul searching, and a beverage or three, it was decided that it would not be a good idea. Not because of any obvious biases which would be inherent in the posts themselves (Biased? Fuck yeah!), but because the range of emotion on this end would be impossible to articulate and thus, pretty goddamned boring.

But now the game is done. The Senators are through to the second round. That is a lovely turn of phrase...try it for yourself. The Senators are through to the second round. And the best news of all? Of the remaining Eastern teams, the only one the Senators are guaranteed not to meet in Round 2 is the team that poses the biggest threat: Buffalo (thank you Rangers).

And so we will spend the next few days basking in the glow of a series win and the salivating possibilities of the weeks ahead. Personally, we're kind of hoping for a series against the Rangers, if only to find a use for 671 boxes of Jello.

And we bid a fond farewell to the Happy Feets. Rest assured your day will come, but you'll need to pay a much higher price if you want to succeed. Ottawa has paid that price. It's our year, at least until the next round.

G'Night!

Whither Mellon??

And now we leave the Steel City, and its quaint little rink, with a sweep in our pocket and a 3-1 series lead. All things considered, we are happy. There is a certain peace in the universe when one's predictions come to pass. Well, at least allmost. And to our pre-teen friends at ThePensblog...While you may think us "FAGS!!", you have that right. But bare in mind...these fags are going to the second round.

G'Night!

2nd Period -- In Which We Secretly Pine For The Dulcet Tones Of Don Chevrier

-- Right off the start, pp for the Feets. Not much happens. Holy CRAP does Malkin look like a lost waif. This message brought to you by the Alexei Yashin School of Playoff Performance.

-- Oh-oh!! That reminds me: Note to self: tomorrow, do that Yashin post you've been mulling over. Or some time this week.

-- Crosby just can't skate. So naturally this results in an Ottawa penalty. Anybody else getting tired of this??

-- Oh dear Lord, Cole is singing the Senators praises. Surely Armageddon can't be far behind.

-- Ottawa still isn't HITTING!! C'mon Bryan!! BRASSE TA GANG!!! Um...that's French BTW.

-- 8:08 Goal Feets. Staal with an assist to the Anti-Christ. Inevitable. Too many guys standing around Emery, not enough Feets on their respective asses. Second time in two games Roberts feeds Redden his lunch. Yet, we do not despair. Yet.

-- I do believe Bob Cole just said that Don Cherry is in love with an 18 year old boy. CBC adds another 7 seconds to the delay.

-- Pace is absolutely nuts! Acid reflux kicking in...Can barely handle...crowd absolutely bugshit loud...YeathoughIwalkinthevalleyoftheshadowofdeath...

-- Jesus H KeeeeeRISTE! After about 4 minutes of end-to-end, Ottawa gives up a PP. Man, this is playoff hockey folks! Not sure I can take this...

-- End of the 2nd. Feets are on the PP, thanks to an Oscar worthy performance by Jordan Staal. Apparently the Sydney Crosby-head snap back-big "OW"-on-your-face method of penalty encouragement is catching on. Ahem...I promised I wouldn't. I promised I wouldn't descend to Pensblog levels...and I won't.

So...a moment to collect ourselves...a moment to ogle the Sunshine girl perhaps...and we'll be back after the game.

--

1st Period -- In Which Our Intrepid Hero Declares -- Mmmmm...Pizza Good!

-- Canadian Anthem...didn't...suck...cool! And no booing. Thanks Pittsburgh. We'll put our tanks away now.

-- Full marks to the crowd. On Emery right from the start..."Let's Go Pens!!"...Excellent. They realize the importance of this game. Very well done grasshopper...a worthy opponent (author reserves right to be less magnanimous as evening progresses).

-- GOOOOOOAAAAAAAL!!! 3:25 of the first. Spezza of the half-boards on the PP. Wait...under review?? WTF?!?!

-- It's a goal kids. Let us celebrate by adding pizza to wine.

-- Wow. Philips just blew on Malkin to knock him off the puck. Literally. Blew on him. I even saw Chris purse his lips and blllloooow. Soft as ice cream, that boy.

-- PP to Ottawa. Hilarious sequence on HNIC where Bob Cole called it on the wrong team, then had no clue if a penalty was going to be called, then expressed bewilderment upon noticing the ref had his arm up. Stellar work Bob! There isn't a 70 year old Newfie alive who could do better!

-- WHEEE! Charging against Ruutu...on his own guy! Brilliant!

-- Crosby flops and flails and carries on. No call. High dudgeon at the Mellon (Seriously. Can't find a better naming sponspor?)

-- Ottawa has stopped hitting. This seems to be contradictory to a winning strategy. In other words: HIT THE BASTARDS UNTIL THEY CRY FOR THEIR MOMMIES! I mean JESUS! These guys are 12! How hard can it be?!?! Ahem...I mean...perhaps a re-think is in order.

-- Crosby falls on contact (as usual), Malkin runs Emery, Roberts yaps off to everybody. We're gettin' spicy...and angry. But mostly spicy.

-- End of the 1st, 1-0 Sens. Momentum hangs in a precarious balance. And the Author needs to visit the rest room.

Enjoy the Don and we'll see you after the 2nd!

3rd Period -- In Which We Wish ThePensblog A Fond Adieu. Do Let Us Know When You Post Something Other Than "You're a FAG!"

-- 3rd underway, and the Feets are finished. They look finished, they feel finished. If it walks like a flightless bird...

-- Just noticed the graphic in the ice at Mellon. "Greatest Fans In Hockey!" Um...is that why there are suddenly a lot of empty seats in the lower bowl 7 minutes into the period? What, they're all up in Mario's box offering salary cap advice? Leafing through "Scenic Kansas City" brochures? What? Enquiring minds need to know!!

-- Millen bringing up an Ottawa choke job angainst the Feets during the regular season. Thanks. Thanks loads. Jerk.

-- A small piece of advice to the Greatest Fans In Hockey. When one of your boys falls down, you don't necessarily need to scream for a penalty. Sometimes...people just...fall down. I know! I had trouble with that too. It's o.k.

-- A-Train on Orpik! BEEEEAUTY! Orpik seems a little sore. Schubert in the box, don't know why, but p.p. for the Feets.

-- WHEEE!! Alffie levels Roberts! There's a NEW Order now old man! I find myself curiously aroused...

-- Rugby scrum in front of the Sens bench. Chris Neil chewing through the boards...Memories over how the Feets gooned it up on the Thursday before the playoffs are stirred. We may not be done after all.

-- Goal. Happy Feets. Crosby, sliding on his back. Have to admit, it's pretty. And in a few years he is going to be one dangerous hombre. But not tonight. Please God, not tonight, not again.

--4:30 to go. Crowd's awake again. Looks like the party in Mario's box has broken up.

-- Schubert creams Scuderi...it was questionable to say the least. Feets on the p.p., 3:00ish to go. We grow very very concerned.

-- Ooops. Should have known better than to listen to Bob Cole. Whitby gets two for going after Schu, so we're 4 on 4. Less concerned. Feets have pulled MAF.

-- Frantic around the Rayzor. Whistle with a minute ish to go. Malkin loses his freakin' head! Tsk-tsk. Such a temper in one so young. Philips and Malkin off on coincidentals. I'll take that trade.

-- Pittsburgh calls time out with 1:17 to go. My god, I swear if Sydney whined anymore than he does, people would start calling the SPCA over an abused animal.

-- AAAAAnd we're done. Game's over, Senators win (YAY!!), home ice is back where it belongs and all is well with the world. I'll absorb this win tonight, go spend some time with my beautiful wife and expound on the meaning of it all tomorrow. HUZZAH!! And Gary Roberts still SUCKS!

G'night!

1st Period...In Which John Muckler Begins To Re-Think The Month of March

-- 19:08 -- Guess who? 52 seconds in. Perfect. Followed by the 1st "Please do not throw anything on the ice" warning. You'd think the fans would be less...destructive, after going without the playoffs for so long. 1-0 Feets.

-- Emery looking a little shaky. Focus Ray...what would Mike Tyson do??

-- Well, hitting is picking up so at least there's that. I mean Roberts has gotta realize eventually that his 453 years old and self combust, right? Sooner or later, it has to happen, eh? RIGHT?!?!

-- 12:52 -- First Crosby whine to the referee. And I am further convinced that Ruutu is the illegitimate offspring of Diane Fossey and one of her "favourite" gorillas.

-- 12:22 -- First Ottawa powerplay. Mario is not amused. You really can't buy good help anymore.

-- One shot. One lousy shot on the PP. Nice to see brilliant coaching in action.

-- 8:35 -- Second Ottawa powerplay following a pretty good scramble in front of MAF. Ottawa bench furiously attempting to decline. Informed that this is not, in fact, a football game. 78 fans leave with Terrible Towels tucked between their legs.

-- Heatley cross-check to negate the pp. He was just demonstrating to his slower line mates, how body contact actually works. You know guys, you are allowed to hit somebody. Just sayin'...

-- Bullshit call on Fisher for "holding" on Recchi. Much whining from the Feets bench. "You Must Be THIS Old To Take This Dive". Hmmm...must have missed the sign.

-- GOALL!!! 1:56 to go!! Crash the net, MAF can't control the rebound, Preissing gets pushed in, howls of outrage from crowd. My humble advice? Read a rule book fucksticks. Oops...sorry, I promised my wife I'd be nice today... Tie game 1-1.

-- Phew. End of the 1st. Quick impressions? Sens weather the 1st 5 minutes of the Feets' natural high about playing at home. And again, for the rest of the period, the Feets do nothing to convince me they're the better team. That said, Emery still looks pretty shaky. Oh...and apparently, there are precisely zero hot women in Pittsburgh. C'mon Camera Dude! Get with it!

Don's comin' up, gettin all Canucklehead on your ass... See you after the second!

Now Then. Were There Any Questions?

For reasons beyond my control (but which will be revealed in the fullness of time…let’s just say there damn well better not be anymore Wednesday night games) I didn’t actually see the game last night. I did, however catch the highlights on SportsCentre and by all accounts, a thorough schooling was given to the Happy Feets.

Then there is this little exchange from a chat transcript posted on the Post-Gazette website:

Iceburgh: Considering the way Ottawa run at our guys all night - when it got to 6-1 why not take a major penalty or two, just to send a message that we aren't going to let them play like that the rest of the series?

Jerry Micco: Good question, Ice. Seems like if you're going to put a uniform on George Laraque, then late in the game is the time for him to hammer some people, which he did, but it was too little, too late. And it did show that the Pens are not the most physical team in the NHL. In the playoffs, that's a part of the game.

Without pointing out the relative grammatical failings of your average Feets fan, I fail to see how playing a physical game constitutes “run at our guys all night”. Or, perhaps, this only applies when the Feets are the ones dishing rather than taking?

Or maybe after watching Ruutu run around like the gutless fucking puke he is all season, they can’t recognize a clean hit when they see one. Yeah, my money’s on that one.

Ottawa Never Looks Back In 6-3 Win [Pittsburgh Post-Gazette]

Pittsburgh?!?! Stupid Monkey.

In a follow up to my post Tuesday about Maggie the Monkey, it seems I was a day early in condemning her to the dustbin of prognosticatory history. Apparently TSN has not, in fact, Kerry Fraser-ed* her. Behold, her picks along with the other TSN "experts". The monkey is the only primate on the panel to pick Happy Feet over the Senators. We are concerned.

*Sudden and surprising disposal of a familiar, yet no longer useful item.

Fear the monkey! [TSN.ca]

From Those Who Should Know Better But Yet Insist On Being Mocked By A Monkey

Not sure yet if TSN is bringing back Maggie the Monkey or if they’ve relegated her to the same place Kerry Fraser’s hair went to retire but here’s a round up of learned opinions from around the hockey world about the Sens/Pens series…

“Sens/Pens”…Man, is THAT going to get old fast…

CBC: Lays natural Toronto bias aside and beseeches the Ratings Gods: Ottawa in 6.

FoxSports: Al Strachan, finally acknowledging that he is the love child of Don Cherry and Lester Patrick, picks Ottawa in 7

ESPN: Showing typical ESPN decisiveness, Scott Burnside says Ottawa in 5, while John Buccigross picks Flightless Birds in 6. Paul Martin smiles in approval.

Deadspin: The NHL has a team in Pittsburgh??

Five For Smiting: Sydney Crosby whines himself into Intensive Care and Gary Roberts finally comes to his senses and quits in the middle of game 3 to become a rodeo clown. Ottawa in 6

No Playoffs for Kerry [TSN.ca]

Cry “HAVOC!”, And Let Slip The Dogs Of War!

And now, the real season. The little boys have taken their toys home to Mommy, leaving the field of battle to their betters. The greatest prize in all of Sport awaits the victor. It will sit patiently, waiting, as it has for 108 years. It will wait to see who can meet its only demand. 16 wins. 16 wins bought and paid for in blood, sweat, teeth, heart, soul and tears. That is all it asks. And yet it will demand more than 15 teams have to give. Only one team can remain standing at the end. Only one will have earned the right to call themselves “Champions”. This is why we watch. This is why we love and this is why we cheer.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in Canada now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Stanley's day.

With apologies to the Bard, it's Playoff time. Now let’s get it on.

Now Then Where Were We? Ah Yes! Gentlemen, To Evil!

My original plan, hatched as it was in the moments of rage and confusion (and lots and LOTS of beer) following the last second loss to Snivelling Syd and Co. on Thursday night, was to start a board war with the first Penguin’s fan site that popped up on Google.

Sounded fan-freakin’-TASTIC! Best idea I’d had since I tried to make Crown Royal in the bathtub. That was, right up until the point when I realized that, in order for one to start a board war, one needs…well…boards. And friends. More specifically, one needs friends who know about one’s site AND who are willing to take up battle to preserve one’s board. Um…I have neither. There’s just me.

So I guess I’ll just have to settle for watching the series on CBC and emailing snide, and anonymous comments to these guys.

Come to think of it, the Crown in the tub thing didn’t work out all that hot either…

www.Thepensblog.blogspot.com