By the end of the game and end of the night I was sitting in a dusty parking lot trying to make out with a girl I'd just bought cigarettes for. She was hot, but she had a boyfriend. I realize now that during game 4 the Pens were like the hot but taken (and unfortunately faithful) girl--full of potential but ultimately just a tease.
At least, that's how I felt until Monday night, when they pulled off a win that shortened my already drooping life expectancy (I drank hard Saturday night) considerably. Marc-Andre Fleury, or MAF, as he will be known on this site, stood on his head and refused to let the team quit even when it seemed like they weren't terribly opposed to the idea.
When Petr Sykora, Professional Shooter put one home to end the madness, I screamed like a sorority girl at a busted party--hoarsely, without feeling, and half-confused. I half expected the refs to take away the goal because it seemed impossible that the Pens had actually won the game. Save for the first period, they were outplayed so badly that it defies logic that they stayed within 4 goals, let alone won.
None of that matters now, however, because the Pens are going back home, are probably equal parts relieved that they made it to game 6, and pissed off that they lost their last game at home. I'm not saying I expect the Wings to fold like a cheap tent, but let's just say I don't think they're going to come out flying around trying to bury the Pens through sheer force of will. Detroit didn't want any part of game 6, and I think it's going to show tonight. Fleury's going to top his performance from last game, at least statistically, and I think we'll be headed back to Detroit for an NBC wet dream of a deciding game.
For good measure, and inspirational purposes...heeeeere's Bellows! (NSFW)
Go Pens.
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