One games/series at a time.

HOORAY! Aged a few years last night but YAY! Pens move onto round 2, and we'll find out tonight whether it'll be against the Flyers or Rangers. I'm torn. The Flyers have schooled us, but it would be one Hell of a match up. Plus, we're a family divided:

Hat tricks aren't as fun when it's not on home ice, but wait, who am I kidding? It was still a hat trick.

Did I almost lose it when late in the third we almost lost a 4-0 lead? Absolutely. Will it only get harder from here? Yep. Will I miss hearing the name "Boone Jenner"? Kind of. But buckle up your literal babies, we have a long way to go and can only get there one win at a time.

I hate you because I love you.

It's Kris Letang's birthday and I don't feel like celebrating.

Unlike two nights prior, I wasn't screaming. Perhaps a few cheers early on (after all, the first period had the Pens looking like rock stars), but there were no words, even curse words, to explain the total meltdown that unfolded in the third. Every year, I'll yell at the tv the same phrase: "GET IN YOUR GOAL." Why won't MAF listen? While I don't blame the loss on Flower (did Geno even have a shot on goal?), it was a careless move that sent us to OT instead of wrapping up a win.

Going to sleep is not an easy task after a loss like that. The conversation with my husband went something like (OK, exactly like) this:

Me: heavy sighs
Mark: "calm down honey, you're not on the team"

I know I need to take this less seriously. I thought about not watching game five, but who am I kidding? I'll be glued to it. I'll be hoping to recognize my team again.

The story of last night.

I can't believe we came back to win last night's game, but I'll take it. I was a cursing machine three minutes in and for the remainder of the game. "F'ing Christ" flew out of my mouth uncontrollably. My husband walked in the door to me shouting about Boone Jenner. Two goals too soon and I hoped they'd pull Fleury. Instead, they took a time out and tried to regroup. It worked, as they wound up holding Columbus, but we still couldn't score. Bobrovsky was looking like Rask and despite several chances, including several on the power play, it just wasn't happening. With the Blue Jackets up 3-1 in the third, I was ready to go to sleep angry. I had hoped that we'd try and tie up the series later in the week. And then, as my husband was falling asleep beside me, I shouted so loudly and practically pulled his arm out of the socket because the Pens scored, then scored again. And then holy crap again and we took the lead. Even this morning we muttered to each other, "I can't believe we won."

Even still, I can't make sense of our veteran stars. Crickets. Sure, they had some chances but their inability to connect worries me moving forward. This crap won't fly if we get through this series. The other teams will trample us like buffalo. Literally, like the Buffalo Sabres would be trampled. Let's make it right.

 

Where have all the Penguins gone?

As I'm still trying to shake of the double overtime loss from Saturday, I can't help but wonder, where have all the Penguins gone? I mean, I see them on the ice, but they're mentally on another planet. Earth to Sid, Geno, Neal, Kuni- we're in the playoffs! They can't rely on the baby Penguins. How can they play so well in the first period and then lose Brian Gibbons and they fall apart? It makes me crazy.

 

Matty Niskanen has perhaps replaced Tanger as my d-man boyfriend. He's on his game, he's easy on the eyes, and he loves puppies.

We (I) need a win tonight. And not a scare the crap out of me "a win's a win" kind of win. A kick ass, make'em cry, 10 run rule kind of win. Let's make that happen, ok?

And so it begins.

Last night, game 1, and anxious was the understatement of the year.  Is it so hard to whoop ass in the playoffs? Thankfully Fleury was OK- I know he wished he could take at least one of those goals back, but anyone who says they don't worry about Flower is lying. We're all scared out of our minds that he'll lose it. I wonder if the sports psychologist travels with the team? Let's consider getting him on the bus. We'll pay him in silver.

My husband has this plaid jacket that needs to be thrown out because half the arm is ripped off. He tends to keep clothes and shoes until I secretly "lose" them (ie: throw them out myself).

Well, last night he decided this jacket would now be be known as his "Boone Jenner." It made perfect sense to me (although this is a RED jacket, not a blue jacket... but it certainly fits the name "Boone.")

And will I ever grow up? Eveytime I heard the name "Tyutin," I giggled. (This also happens with Oduya).

One down, 3 (or 15, but let's not get ahead of ourselves) to go. Buckle up, baby. if last night's game shows us anything, it's going to be a bumpy ride.