The Puck Drop: So. This is what life drips down to. Tapping away at keys, like a pelican diving for shrimp, aiming at something but not knowing what it is. Of course, harhar, we’re so much more advanced than that mere animal; we shape existence and knowledge, don’t we, yes? And by doing so, we begin to understand our universe in its smallest parts, right? click click click goes the clock; tap tap tap drips the faucet; next next next go the hockey games.
It’s all just clockwork, no? Tick tick tick, lose lose; debate about the lines bliz blaz the numbers yub yub it all ebbs slowly away.
Oh brother, I can’t, I can’t get through. I’ve been trying hard to reach you ’cause I don’t know what to do. Oh brother, I can’t believe it’s true. I’m so scared about the future and I want to talk to you…
Pittsburgh Whirlpool End
We’re dispensing with the Hot and Not parade this day; in part because it’s played and in part because our CMS is acting like a gassy 6-month-old; constantly demanding things it doesn’t really want but still fussing at every moment along the way. We disappoint our RMNB overlords… and expect to be tilling the tundra soon enough. But reality is what it is, and the Caps are where there are [Ed note: more this Wednesday morning!]. As are, it seems, the Penguins.
Rarely have we seen a team so burdened by injury. Mike Green? Tom Poti? Meh, you ain’t seen nothing. Feast your eyes on the ruins of Pittsburgh:
The Penguins have lost 5 games in a row. They’re missing their offense. Their fans are punching pregnant women. We sympathize with most of that.
Here’s Truth, If Y’all Ready To Hear It
We’re tired. The Capitals are tired. California is a place to play, not vanquish your opponent. We get that.
Truth? The Caps never fail to rise to the worst of opponents; especially the Penguins. We’ve had our larfs at the fat birds before, and will again in the future. Here’s what it is:
There’s nothing more we want or can say. Perhaps it’s the West coast/East coast time shift. Maybe it’s our idiot bosses (as in, those that pay us, not our boyfriends at RMNB.) Blame it not tonight’s full moon.
We’re done for the moment. Exactly the same position any team worth its gravy might be in. We understand. Not every night can be a Joe B suit of the night moment; you can’t always produce brilliant play. We just ask that you, as we have here, just get our there on your toes whether you feel like it or not and do your damndest.