Never trust someone who looks like they were a character on Miami Vice.
We aren't even gonna go into this.
When we said we would be pulling for Montreal the rest of the way,
we took this series into consideration.
We won't pull for the Flyers under any circumstances, although somewhere deep down inside, we want the Flyers to win tonight so Boston sports fans can live with this chokejob for the rest of their lives.
If the Bruins win, we just don't see ourselves cheering when Mark Recchi scores a goal.
The daylight is just lifting. Throw a quarter to some homeless guy. You head past Gate Two and high-five some random dude..... flick the Flyers bus off, keep walking up that godforsaken hill. You look up at the parking lot where you spent hours waiting in traffic as a kid. You give a "wooo..." to tailgateblog up there, throw a wave to the hockey jesus. Open up to Gate Three and get your sac touched by some guard- getting close now. The blast of cold air hits you right as you peek behind the curtain and see the empty red seats. The arena is busy; you're in line behind 200 people. You're a goddam Penguin fan in the only Arena you've ever known. Is there any thing better in the world?
Rest in peace.
Posted May 4th:
Move over, '96 Panthers and '93 Islanders.
You have company on Heartbreak Hill.
Don't want to recap this game or this series, but we have to for history's sake.
Five years from now, we'll want to read how we felt.
We'll never throw a player under the bus unless they are Chris Bourque.
That's why we never touch Marc-Andre Fleury. No reason to. Cup-winning goaltender.
But, man. You just can't give up a goal 30 seconds into Game 7.
It just can't happen. No way. No how.
You know what else can't happen?
Winning the Stanley Cup every season.
We as fans have had so much go right over the last three years.
We were due for something awful. We've lived with that fear since October.
From the outset of this season, something didn't feel right; something wasn't there.
If you thought different, you're lying to yourself.
No memorable games, no comebacks, no killer-instinct hero shit.
And the PP was stains all season.
Game 7 was a microcosm of the season.
PP couldn't come through. MAF got yanked.
Turnovers: Penguins-20, Habs-1. 20 to fucking 1.
The Pens Defined Ordinary.
Regardless, it was still a hell of a ride.
We'll take this season over watching the Kansas City Penguins on NHL Center Ice any day.
This post itself is in shambles. There is no rhyme or reason to it.
Just put the gold divider in there 'cause it's gay and we've hated it all season and never changed it.
We probably saw Sergei Gonchar's last shift as a Penguin.
His effort on the Travis Moen goal has people throwing hissy fits.
Newsflash: It wasn't the game-winning goal. It doesn't matter.
Gonchar has been our favorite Penguin since we started the blog in '06.
Ponikarovsky is a joke.
It doesn't even shame us to say it, but we're jumping right back on board with the Canadiens the rest of the way.
Skating shifts with Hal Gill brings us pleasure.
People love the underdog story.
People loved George Mason going to the Final Four a couple years ago.
People were pulling for the Jets in the AFC Championship Game against the Colts in January.
Dominic Moore sucks.
There's just something about a team that is playing as a team.
They came into this series and made a lot of Pens fans look like assholes, us included.
Have to respect it.
Whoever the Habs play in the ECF ------- Wait, wait, wait.
Flying under the radar in these playoffs right now is the story of the Flyers working their way back from a 3-games-to-none deficit to force Game 7 on Friday night.
The "history" the Habs have made so far in these playoffs has relied upon teams that were supposed to wipe the floor with them not being able to deliver.
But from now on, nothing will be seen as their opponents' failure, but rather the Habs' success.
We're pretty level-headed about everything in the wake of last night.
But don't e-mail us. We don't care about anything right now.
No clue why you'd do it to yourself, but a recap is waiting after the jump.
One more win and you're in the Eastern Conference Final.
One more loss and you're cleaning out your locker.
The Pittsburgh Penguins are a battle tested team.
They've made the Stanley Cup Final two years in a row.
Last year they beat both Washington and Detroit in game seven.
On the road.
Tonight they are at home.
We are at home.
And it needs to be loud.
"We know what Montreal’s building was for them and now it’s a chance for us and our fans to have something special... We want to have the energy and the top coming off of the old building. I know our guys are really looking forward to stepping out and hearing those fans go bananas with the opening introduction."
One of the most interesting things about game sevens is the rollercoaster ride they take you on. Every hit feels bigger. Every shot seems more deadly. Every bounce could end the game. Since the Habs 4-3 victory on Monday night we've all been on that rollercoaster. Emotions have been everywhere.
Anything can happen in game seven and it usually happens quickly. In the span of a few seconds you can go from feeling unbelievable fear to experiencing incredible joy. And it happens the other way around too. Game sevens are rarely boring. They are rarely predictable. And they are rarely easy.
It is in these games where heroes are made. They are born out of adversity. They are forged out of intensity. When it matters the most some players step up and perform at their highest level.
We've all seen it happen with superstars. Mario Lemieux. JaromirJagr. Sidney Crosby. EvgeniMalkin.
All of those men have risen to the occassion in their careers. They have taken their teams on their backs and played at a level that most of us can only dream about.
But it's not always the superstar that becomes the game seven hero. In fact, many times it's an unlikely player that finds another gear and propells his team to victory. These players do not become heroes because of their incredible natural talents. They do not achieve success by ability alone. These men rise up and become legendary because of their hearts, their desire and their tenacity. These heroes succeed because they have the will to do so.
So it's not entirely surprising that these men are most often the keys to victory in game seven. When the stakes are high and the competition is fierce sometimes emotion, heart and dedication are all that separate two teams from one another.
The Penguins have a roster of playoff heroes. They smell like smoke because they have been through fire. These are their triumphs.
In the movie Arachnophobia, some 1990s town is destroyed by spiders.
Jeff Daniels plays the charming role of some jobber who apparently is the only person with the ability to kill spiders.
In the movie's climax, Daniels is in the basement surrounded by spiders.
He's in his own house. There's no way out.
We've all had our own personal Game 7.
-- Meeting your significant other's parents for the first time.
-- The second onset of have-to-shit-now goosebumps with no bathroom in sight.
-- Your muffler falling off your truck on Bates Street in the pouring rain.
-- Changing your left-rear tire on the shoulder of I-79 on a 2-degree January day.
-- Walking into a room where you know everyone in the room hates you.
-- Driving high for the first time.
-- Having to pay a bill knowing an overdraft fee is lurking.
-- Serving 6:00pm Christmas Eve mass as an altar boy.
-- Stuck in the dead zone wondering whether you should hold the door open for that old lady who's just now getting out of her car in the handicapped spot and you have no clue how fast she'll walk to the door.
-- Some girl is faster than you thought she was, leaving you totally unprepared.
-- Driving down the road, hoping the driver of the next car going the other way didn't just catch his wife cheating on him and he's hell-bent on crashing head-on into the next vehicle he sees.
-- The light turns yellow in the aforementioned dead zone.
However big or small, we encounter Game 7s in our daily lives.
Game 7s have no logic behind them.
Game 7s can't be bought, bullied, reasoned or negotiated with.
The decisions you make in those moments will stay with you until you die.
When the puck drops at 7:11pm tonight, it will begin carving itself into history.
God knows where we will be this time tomorrow.
Will we be planning for the Bruins and/or Flyers?
Or buying tickets to a Pirates game?
The one thing we've learned from any Game 7 is that it is all about the little things.
-- Don't say anything stupid when you meet your in-laws.
Play it close to the vest.
When a funny quip is left hanging in there above the dinner table, take it, then retreat back.
-- Making that split-second decision to go for broke and try to relieve some pressure in your intestines.
Will it be a squeaker? Will the person next to you feel the seat vibrate just enough?
Or will the plan totally backfire?
-- Will you call Triple A? Or suck it up and have 18-wheelers ruin your church clothes by sloshing winter muck into your mouth?
-- Will you close the door on the old lady and get to the back of the convenience store as quick as possible to convince yourself that the old lady was walking too slow when the doorbell dings signaling her entry?
-- Will a priest touch your penis right before the Apostles Creed?
How do you react? A champion doesn't flinch. You're there to do a job.
-- Will the Penguins score the first goal?
Games like this make us wish Al Gore would have invented the Internet a little bit sooner.
How nice would it be to look back on all of the previous Game 7s?
Even though it brings us pain, it's therapeutic to look back at the 2008 Game 6 SCF recap.
The way technology is, we'll be able to do that from here on out.
Most of all, as with all Game 7s, we will all remember something from this game.
Kevin Stevens' face '93.
Still remember that haunting slo-mo. Rich Pilon. Man.
The game-tying goal from that game still sends chills.
Frank Pietrangelo '91:
Game 7 is around the 6-minute mark.
-- Can't really remember much from the '96 Game 7, which is fairly stunning. Went through most of our adult lives thinking that Zubov scored the game-tying goal. Turns out it was actually Nedved.
If you want to see something unreal, LGP has a database of games no one has ever told us about.