Saturday, October 31, 2009

halloween, bitches.

Yesterday was Halloween.
Or, you know, according to the backdate of this post, today is Halloween.
Happy Halloween, bitches. We hope you all got laid in your most likely hockey-based costumes. Allison really got it all right when she went out of the house dressed as a puckbunny, setting the course for an entirely new world of ironically slutty hockey-wear. All of that drinking gets ideas into her head, and sometimes they are amazing. Other times they are along the lines of "HEY GUYS LET'S STOP AT THIS BAR, I NEED ANOTHER SHOT AND I SWEAR WE WON'T MISS THE TRAIN OUT OF BROOKLYN."
What did you go as?
We'll forgive you if it wasn't as awesome.

The Pens played the Wild.
Petr was a dick.
Cal was...Cal.
The Pens played well but couldn't get it done when push came to shove. You can't win 'em all, even though sometimes it looks like we really are that immaculate.
We're not depressed. Fuck. Are we ever?
Awards show doesn't seem fitting. Let's talk costumes.

Legends of the Hidden Temple Contestant
Alex Goligoski
Little Alex sure does want to prove us wrong. He overheard us bitching about his contract back in the day and he is yet to forget it. 23 shifts, and the kid's plus/minus is making ladies' periods later than this post.
Left the house as a Green Monkey contestant. Not cocky enough to be a Silver Snake, he's one of the kids who cleverly cheats my using his knees on the slide challenge, and seems to know the hidden location of every temple guard. We root for him only after we realize our original pick was a shitting idea, and tell our friends we were always REALLY rooting green. Fucking Purple Parrots.
We were always on your side, little Alex.
Keep it up.

The Token Slut Costume
Petr Sykora
Now now, Petey, we miss you too. But we don't show it by acting all enraged whenever you come around. This always happens. A favorite leaves on possibly bad terms, comes back and acts kind of like an ass. He tried to main Tanger's pretty face, and while we understand that maybe that felt like the right thing to do at the time, long term this is not the message you want to send to the Penguins.
Petey was, of course, a very sexy French maid this Halloween. Everyone hates that fucking bitch that parades around in next to nothing because she couldn't think of anything more clever to rock than her own cleavage. But in the end, that's the drunk bitch that gets the party started by dancing on the bar and needing her stomach pumped by 11 p.m. And she's kind of hot. What can you do? We love you, Petey. Now put on some pants.

Ryan Whitney
Chris Borque
We can thank Chris for giving us a new reason to roll around on the ground screaming "WHY, PENS ORGANIZATION?" Caused WWII, the holocaust, and pancreatic cancer. He is why smoking is bad for you and the reason you didn't get laid on prom night.
Thank you very fucking much, sir.

Sidney Crosby
Cappy, oh Cappy, how you make us proud. What with your rapidly increasing faceoff percentage, learning when it is and isn't okay to embellish a hit, and generally proving to everyone that you are better than them and they can go fuck off.
Clearly he's a sailor man.

Puck Huffers Staff
Forgive our absence. We love you more than all those we are rutting in sin with. We doubt you expect our full sobriety on holidays regardless, but still. Sometimes we feel guilty. Here is our formal apology, notarized by all the necessary officials.

Forgot His Costume
Eric Godard
No one realized. Won best costume. Always brings his pimp suit.

So the Pens lost.
It happens.
Now stop that shit.

As always, your comment ideas will be better than anything we can do.
What were the boys wearing?
Do it.

Go Pens.

Friday, October 30, 2009

not back down to earth

For 57 minutes, you probably thought this was our reckoning.
The moment the hockey gods were going to be like "whoops, guys, we didn't MEAN that" and show us how easily we can be dismantled by a few injuries and a hardworking, fast, physical opposition.
The Penguins were exposed. . .
As those inimitable, reckless fucking bastards that we know they are, the ones that cause us to scream when we're not supposed to when others are sleeping, the ones that make us jump up and down with zero regard for propriety.

Boys will be boys.
We have to give them awards anyway.

Early on, the Penguins get a power play.
Kris Letang is working the left point. He gets a pass. And just falls down for no apparent reason.
We should have known from that point onward that shit was going to be good.
The Jackets got some PP, too, but nothing actually happened.
We could go on like this all goddamned night.
Rick Nash is dancing around like he's been offered cake for entertaining us.
Our PK blocks like nine million shots and clear. You can hear the Pens fans cheering at the arena for the puck clear. It's a good sound, but there's something hollow for it, too.

Some more ridiculous fooling about ensues.
You see an actual coherent play and realize it's Crosby's line. Duh on the coherence. You didn't think Chris Bourque was out there, did you?
Jackets are working their asses off, just like PH staff knows they do.
But Johnson is holding the fort. Nationwide breaks out the theme song to the X-Files. Bizarre moment.
Then it happens. Rick Nash trips Brooks, our new man in the A. A few seconds later, however, he is assessed a penalty for tripping somebody else.
We had asked the question about Rick Nash's blood. We'll drop by Brooksie's place sometime soon to see if any of it comes out.
Fattie we know we can't trust you, damn it. You and your beautiful truck.
This is in the middle of a power play that Columbus definitely shouldn't have had, so the refs make up for it by not calling the Pens after they did something totally illegal to Voracek.
Next thing you know, they score.
Well thank god we used up our blatant no-call right before a goal was scored.

Then Derek Dorsett mistakes Brooks for a lesser man and pushes him into Johnson.
And for some reason Brooks is going to the box again after Johnson was basically fucking hurt.
Soooo much blood.
Somehow we get a PP out of it.
Letang with an amazing shot, but Mason holds it down.
We get in one final shot at the buzzer, but if you thought Stevey was going to let that up you were sadly mistaken.

At intermission, we talk about how big Rick Nash is on his knees.
Then we are treated to a surprising graphic:
Shit, son.
Boy's moving up in the world.

Early second period, Sid gets ruined by Vermette and is quite clearly injured. Vermette doesn't seem to have really meant it, but do we give a shit?
Nice. Just what we need. Another man down.
Injury-talk leads inevitably to a great Marian Gaborik joke.

Conner is everywhere. Maybe upset about the Great Captain going down.
Crosby's back, though. He seems okay. Thank you, Curry.
Bob Errey says "shutout" for Stevey's benefit.
Errey and Steiggy talk about how Sid clearly can't be feeling well. Thanks, just keep telling us that.

Commodore with some amazing keep that shouldn't have happened.
And as a result of that keep, we poop in our own mouths.
No forwards down low, as astutely pointed out by Errey.
What the fuckkk?
Rick Nash buries it. 2-0.

Goligoski blocks a shot. Is basically saving the team.
Steiggy is all doom-and-gloom like somebody's Catholic grandmother visiting friends in the cancer ward.
So, let's call a penalty on the Penguins.

Pens get called for another penalty--this time a hook.
Not much going on, except Goligoski being a hero and Johnson making saves.

Then Kunitz becomes seized with an unholy desire for glory. And rushes the fuck ahead. First, Stevey stones him. Nash gets inside the net to hide while Stevey is eating snow. Really just a very inglorious moment. But Kunitz. . .Kunitz buries it. Shorthanded. SUCK IT HATERS. 2-1

We get a Staal Brothers picture for no apparent reason.
Entire bottle of Jack to yourselves, guys.
Johnson is a stud. Amazing saves.
Columbus is apparently outnumbering us in the corners.
Thank God.

Finally the Jackets get called for something. This is our time. Remember? Remember us? Remember this?

Goligoski, Sid, and Billy go absolutely fucking insane. The way that Sid and Guerin and Gogo have been playing, you're in shock that the puck isn't in the net.
But of course: out of the box Sammy Pahlsson gives it to Dorsett and Dorsett and Johnson are alone on an island together where he can either backhand it or forehand it and he backhands it behind Johnson and we're down and out.

Penguins are angry. Bobby Errey knows it.

Period ends with another call on us. We're almost excited to hear them announced at this point!

Period starts and the Pens are killing this penalty.
We get the picture.
Kunitz is being the best player on the ice and wants nothing more than to fuck up some Blue Jackets, but nothing is going on.

And then they call a penalty on Sid. You know. Fun and games. We do like this.
We're killing it beautifully though. We could hang this PK in a museum.
Okay, okay.
Still down by 2 though, everyone.
Honestly, you've probably stopped caring. No one looks particularly excited to be there, and time is getting short.
With four minutes left, we don't quite look like we care yet.
As soon as the clock winds below three though, we look a-fucking-mazing.
The Bourque-Staal-Fedotenko line, like an awkward, ugly middle child, suddenly tries to accomplish something in the wake of its forebears.
Fedotenko has a wide-open net.
This, folks, is hockey.

It's like suddenly we decide that not really clicking for 57 minutes didn't fucking matter.
Goligoski with an absolutely amazing shot from waaaaaaay out there.

Man of the fucking hour.

There is still over a minute left. Dangerous shit.
Rupp gets a shot off with like 7 seconds left. Mason the save. Steiggy giggles over it.
For some reason Bob Errey wants to tell us what the rules of NHL regular season overtime is.
Thanks Bobby, we didn't know.
He's also talking about Gogo's mustache. Because we're all in love with it. Don't ever shave it, Alex. You sexy man, you.

4-on-4 is always horrifying.
Crosby with some epic pokecheck on Nash as he's cutting to the middle. Oh god. Don't tease us.
Too many moments of almost to count, as overtime always is.
We're biting our tongues here.
Life is hard.
Life is so hard.

Mason with some amazing save on Ktang right in front. God.
Suddenly we have a 23 second power play. But it's cleared.
And then we fail to shoot it at an open net. And it's shootout time.
And now we have shootout rules on the screen because we started watching hockey four days ago.

Vermette = fail
Letang = post. no dice.
Rick Nash = missed the goal. nope.
Sid = Mason LOOKED like he made the save but then he just let the puck trickle over for no apparent reason. Stevey are you drunk?


Somehow, we can play hockey for less than ten minutes and accomplish what takes other teams an entire game.
We can't keep doing this shit. We have to count our blessings. It's an 82-game season and we have men who need to come back and be their best.
We got heart and luck right now and not a ton else.
Still: Bring It.

Your prize is in the mail.

1. Gogo - how did he not get a real one? Scandalous.
2. Chris Bourque - for only having three 40's tonight
3. Jared Boll - Five shifts of glory.

We're pretty awesome.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Pens vs. CBJ

Oh, jeez.
We love and hate games like this, people.
Having attended a Penguins game in Columbus, we know that the atmosphere is going to be great (because Jackets fans are beasts) and that the cannon will be ready to go. We're so sorry we can't be there.
The last time we were, the situation was pretty desperate--though they had just accomplished an impressive winning streak, they still needed every little point to get them into the playoffs. Jackets won in SO and we took it gladly.
The case tonight isn't quite the same, but nevertheless there will be some shit to overcome. Our lineup has suddenly been depleted by injuries and we've recalled Conner. Chris Bourque (who is like, drunk) is a second-liner--remember when Petr Sykora was a second-line winger? Far cry.

Here are the projected lines as per the Pens site:



Eesh. It's been worse, though. We're not going to lie.
But Malkin missing 2-3 weeks with a shoulder injury scares the crap out of us. Typically the man is impervious to all which involves pain. The understanding is that he wants to play but Coachy wants him to sit for his own damn good.
Which is so like him, isn't it?

Will Kris's haircut deplete the unicorn power?
How well does Rick Nash's blood scrub out of an RBK Edge jersey?
I guess you'll have to tune in to find out.

by the way, Detroit is kind of having a moment lately. Just one big ongoing moment.
They were down 5-1 to Edmonton midway through the second. Scored one in the second and then went all surgical on their asses in the third, staging a three-goal comeback. The game went to OT. Nothing. To shootout, and Edmonton won.
It's a game of momentum and passion. Detroit should have won that game by the rules of those forces.
But. . .you know. It's Detroit.

Fuck 'em.
Go Pens.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

docking of the USS Gill in the Steel City

That's for you, Kim.

Hello All. Intern, here. My pre-game reading binge was amazing. There were far too many choice quotes and oddities, so I'll just dive in.

Tonight is the 125th straight sell-out for the Pens. Bettman is weeping tears of happiness...

The Canadiens have won four in a row, which is a big deal for them. Talk to us when you hit seven, kids. They're trying for five, obvs, which would be their first time in a whole year. Numbers are a bitch.

Mr. President is busy nursing an overworked knee/shoulder/dick and is cruising around in Air Force One sipping champagne tonight. He's day-to-day.

Fun With H1N1 and Pascal:

What Bylsma Said: "We always do that so there isn’t fear of an epidemic running through the team. He could be contagious so we kept him away from the rink."

What Dupuis Said: "You have the Montreal flu".

Is there a vaccine for that? Carey needs it.

Hal picked up his ring today from Shero. I guess you can't fed-ex that shit. We salute you, sir, even when you say you're "not nostalgic".

In the pre-show, Potash talks to Bylsma. I use the word "talk" generously, because it mainly consisted of choking on monosyllabic words. Diamond Dan has a fresh, natty new haircut, so he let it roll and answered repetitive questions like the professional that he is. Apparently they're going to neutralize, maneuver, and score. Should be fun to watch.

Blue Steel

Moment Sid Almost Gets Controversial:

El Cap totally throws Cooke under the bus in his interview and says that although he would not have assaulted Booth like Mike Richards, Matty might have. He then points out that Gonchar would not have made that hit, either. Them's fightin words.

Puck drops. The announcers are having far too much fun with Halak. MAF is described as a Snow Angel while "Halak is on his back!" echoes in the rafters.

First Moment of WOOO!!!

Kunitz scoops up a givewaway when Gionta fails to clear. Sir passes to Sid who takes the one-timer and starts the show. Pens have outshot 5 to 1 in the first 8 minutes.


If my feed had Careycam, you would see him giggling on the bench, still trying to figure out how to spell shit. Something like this:

He doesn't know what he's in for.

Matty Cook crosschecks someone irrelevant in the back, which he may or may not have done simply to illustrate Sid's point.

There was probably hockey playing here, but the announcers were too busy making fun of Fleury's Kermit the Frog costume that involved leggings and the period ends. I find myself strangely turned on. Don't judge.

In the second, Sir and Gogo fire shots at Halak on the PP that Gill gave them. Teamwork! I knew Hal still loved us.

Second Moment of WOOO!!!

Goligoski continues to assault Halak and nails one off the post. Kunitz picks it up, sends it to Cappy, who's hanging out at the net and it's done. This prompts a discussion of his stick, the curve, lack of curve, and whether or not he would have gotten that goal without his new fancypants one-piece. I barfed with joy.


Cooke gets high sticked to the face straight off the faceoff by D'Agostini. The Habs coach is phenomenally unimpressed by this little maneuver.

More pentalties, and on a delay Rupp does amazing things and pokes in a shot by Eaton! There are no photos of this event because it does not involve Sid.


Like 2 minutes later....

Third Moment of WOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

Crosby is all by his lonesome in front of the net, he goes low, and slips it under Halak. Hats flood the ice and the announcers get absolutely batshit crazy with us and debate Crosby's age. They decided he is 21. They also inform us that his birthday is August 8th. For fuckin real? Seriously, gentlemen. Please consult Google, his jersey, or your stat sheet. They are so jealous.

He gave his stick to a kid on the way out.


It's the third, Halak is tired. Announcers have worn out his name. It's time for Jesus Price. Things happen here, but everybody seems le tired from celebrating the hat trick. Apparently people are going home to watch the World Series.

Staal takes one to the face from Spacek, which creates the perfect opportunity to talk about Thunder Bay and BROTHERS. A few minutes later Jordan somehow rips Carey's mask off. Btw: Uncle Jordie might be going as a yellow M&M for Halloween. Priceless.

The Habs have a 5 on 3 for like a minute and decide to suddenly do things with that opportunity.

Puck goes from Gomez to Gionta's skate to Plekanec who goes top shelf. Whatever.


Talk of Price's confidence fills the airwaves. He has low self-esteem and needs to not let one in so that he will feel good about himself. Gogo with a wrister, bitch.


Fourth Moment of WOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

Kunitz on a breakaway and he goes five-hole!!! Baby had one tally in 40 games. That stat ended today. Man is back.

6-1, Suckas.


3. Harold Priestley Gill III: He gave us penalties and we appreciate that.

2. Letang: 24 minutes.

1. Goal Posts: they blocked more shots than McKee tonight. Thanks, guys.

Jackets on Friday.
Go Pens.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Pens V. Habs

Tomorrow is the day we welcome a certain pimp back into our presence for the first time since the days of old. The raging nostalgia comes creeping up when we least expect it.
Oh Hal, how we miss you and wish we didn't have to pray to Curry to cast down plagues and death upon your team. We wish your current jersey was one we could wear proudly. We wish...
Well, we fucking wish a lot of things.
It doesn't change the fact that we are Stanley Cup Champions. And yes, while Hal's name is on the Cup, he does not have the privilege of defending it. Such is life.

Currently we are first in the standings and the Habs are 17th. This early on in the game those standings are on shaky ground. No one knows what will come of this season; we haven't even gotten a chance to hear someone use the "It's only November" excuse. If we win this game, we further cement our place at the top for the time being. We lose, the Avs, Rags and Caps start creeping up on us. And while we don't really give a shit what the Avs are doing league-wide at this point (although their backup goalie Budaj does have swine flu which is both hilarious and awful all at once), we would prefer to keep the Rags at arms length and the Caps a few nations over.

Speaking of the Caps...
Could the NHL get more disgustingly obvious in their attempts to let us know this is a GOOD GUY BAD GUY situation? We are so sick of seeing Crosby played against Ovie like Crosby's the high school nerd with good intentions and Ovie is the dangerous bad boy in the leather jacket. This advertisement just reminded us all of the things we had forgotten since the Caps series. We hate that the public apparently can't be trusted to come up with their own plots. We have to be force fed this good boy v. bad boy story.
Lord are we not looking forward to the next Caps game.

That's really all that there is today.
Not every day can be HUGE EXCITING NEWS like Eric Godard painting with small children.
Lord, don't we wish...

Go Pens.

Monday, October 26, 2009

same old, same old

We still haven't figured out how to run our lives when they have to go on for more than a day or two without hockey.

Here are some things you may want to hear about:

It was a battle of Jonases as winless-but-sexy Vesa Toskala sat the game out.

We, perhaps better than many Pens fans, have an insight into the deeper difficulties of being a Leafs fan, and we're happy to see Toronto notch its first win of the season.
But we are no less amused by pictures like this one from a Leafs game in Vancouver.
Frustrated (probably alcoholic) Leafs fan putting an UpsetFan bag over his head surrounded by some of the best expressions we've ever seen in the stands.
Top right guy just jizzed his pants.
White hat dude probably hasn't even realized he's at a Canucks game.
Seriously, what a moment.

Also, some website that is in love with us tried to get quotes from Bryz about his hot, hot start, and received the following quotation:

"The whole team is battling hard in front of me, and it makes my job much easier," he told "Relaxed? Maybe it's just the beginning of the season, you know, my mind is fresh . . . maybe I don't know what I want."

We never said Ilya was a man who knew what he wanted, but his forwardness with the media on this issue is quite endearing.

Speaking of Bryz, the NHL is still publishing short, 1984-like articles about the fate of the Coyotes franchise. They still want to stay in Phoenix. Woo?

And yeah, you know about the clutch pics of Godard and Fleury dressed up at practice if you've been following the Pens Twitter page.

Also, you can watch the video that finally came out of Eric fingerpainting with children, getting his ass kicked at air hockey, and talking about his coloring skillz. It's really very dangerous so click at your own goddamned risk.

More later.
Just thought we'd share.
Happy Tuesday.

Sunday, October 25, 2009


You might be saying that last night was a down note. Pens lost, Leadership Richards fucked up David Booth's life like the winner that he is: really just a lot of uncool shit. But! There are reasons to be pleased with your life. Perceptive PH readers will have noticed:

1. David Booth didn't actually die and was released from the hospital today. Thank fucking God.

2. Our best friend and lover is being a goddamned hero.
Blue mouthguard, sexy third uni. . .Cal, sweetheart. Come to us. No, seriously. We're not trying to be ironic here. What a fucking goal.

3. That one thing you know we can't get finish the post without mentioning.
Uh, yeah.
Things are still going really well.
9-2-0 is nothing to sneeze at.
Our faith in Curry is strong and we thank him every day for the blessings at hand.
Yet, humility is key, folks. If we deserve this position of power we must continue to earn it.
Feels good though, don't it?

4. If you know where to look, the latest high-school-photo-esque headshots of the boys are floating around.
Note Cappy's poise and championship smile:

Let's not forget Brooksie's hair:

Or Eric Godard looking like he needs a case of beer and a bunch of bros with which to belt out Barrett's Privateers:

And, shit, look over here, somebody just got a little somethin' somethin' in his juice box:

Feel free to browse the list at until the Penguins website gets its shit together. No one knows why they have some awkward picture of Matt Cooke as a Capital. At least we know the truth.

5. Alex Goligoski is still beasting it up. We were so skeptical of his contract extension, but he's been delivering. We miss Gonchar's steadiness at the helm on the PP, but did you want to be a record-breaking night for Martin Brodeur? Us neither. Thanks, Alex.

In a conspiracy against Curry and country, it has been revealed to the world that President Tyler Kennedy dislikes Nationwide Arena. Actually, a very interesting read. We imagine that MaxTal, Billy G, and KTang into spats with Cappy about the integrity of Philips Arena. We can blame this friction within the team if the boys would suddenly drop a bunch of games while seemingly fighting with each other.

Ovechkin did some shit again, is actually getting fined. Wow, he's talking to the ref about it trying to get his team out of killing a penality. What an annoying Crosby-esque move. Still, we're cool with Ovechkin as long as he continues his contractual obligations to the Sasha and Zhenya Comdy Hour with Malks.

So. . .yeah. Last night was sorta lame, but the week as a whole DIDN'T suck, which made this list a lot harder to compile than it has been in the past.
When your team has a winning record, it's hard to bring HOPE. But in the form of Canadian folk music and Cal Clutterbuck, we hope we've delivered.
The season's off to a rollicking start, isn't it?

Oh, October. . .

Saturday, October 24, 2009

The Price of Love

Well...this is a particularly shitty game to do my first official post on, but that's just life. Without much time to prepare for my recapping duties, I had high hopes of Letang scoring his first goal of the season, so I could just come on here and post a beautiful array of unicorn pictures and say "THAT'S ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW BITCHES!"... but alas, there is reality to tell you about....

I should have known right off the bat from being stuck with Jersey's broadcast that this was not going to be a good game. Pregame, Rupp is giving the obligatory interview about facing his former team for the first time. Blah blah blah. Doc and Chico are calling the game, and they are wearing almost matching horrid suits that would make Colonel Mustard terribly jealous.

First Period:

Pens are entering this thing 9-1. They're feeling pretty good about themselves. Staal is everywhere. Pens miss an open net. It's alright, they have the whole game ahead of them. In fact, why not take a break for some fun and games?

(Click here for a bigger picture , Blogger is being all anti leap frog and making this pic tiny.)

(Thanks to usbzoso from for making this photoshop for me so I didn't sit here all night making it on paint.)

Suddenly, I hear Doc and Chico talking about a sombrero hat trick. Apparently that should be the name of what Sidney accomplished last night against the Panthers. A power play goal, a shorthanded goal, and shootout goal are from this point forward to be referred to as a sombrero hat trick.

There is some hockey going on and all, but it's mainly just a lot of bodies smashing into each other. Hit count for this period stands at around 33.

Just when I find myself wishing for the good old antics of Errey and Steigy, Doc and Chico come up big. There must have been a memo sent around on how to make your color commentary more sexual. There's a momentary break in the action, and we viewers get to examine the shaft of Sid's stick. Glad to hear about the straight blade of his stick... for the one thousandth time.

Somewhere in this period, Frasher scored his first NHL goal, but I'm sure you don't want to relive MAF's gaffe. And, even if you did, no photographs exist at this time, so too bad.

Second Period:

Umm, let's be honest here, this game wasn't really that great from the standpoint of a Penguins fan. Instead of putting serious effort into this recap, I am just going to share with you my actual notes from this period:

  • Marty "passed" it to Rupp. Must have forgotten he was traded.
  • Parise trips Brooks-lucky its only 2 minutes and that Brooks already ate dinner.
  • Sid does dirty work in the corner (hardcore)
  • 3 straight kills for the Devils- gag
  • Rupp boarding - hurts old teammate, what a story line.
  • Devs' pp goal -puke


Bunch of dudes at a table. Thought I saw Bon Jovi. It's just Ron Dugay.

Third Period:

Ok, honestly, I have more important things to be doing in life than reliving this loss. I mean, I am sober right now. That's unacceptable, I have to go get my drink on. I barely took notes this period, all I remember is Alex Goligoski breaking Marty Brodeur's shutout bid. Thank goodness. I didn't want Uncle Daddy tying Terry Sawchuk's shutout record against the Pens. Looking at the bright side here folks. Sometimes, it's all one can do.

Pens lose 4 -1

Not making the playoffs.

Trade Kunitz.

Send down Fleury.

Relocate the team.


9 - 2

Best team in the NHL.


Friday, October 23, 2009

stairway to heaven.

Like, seriously, WHAT?
This game was the most bizarre, confusing, emotional wreck of an event ever. We're glad we escaped with our lives, let alone two points.
If ever we need a single game from this season to remind us of the entirety of last season? This is the leading candidate thus far. The hopeful beginning. The quick meltdown. The over-thinking every play. The multiple chances for a turnaround failed. The despair. The rebound. The return of the hunger. The comeback. The epic finish.
Do you see it? We do.

The press, however, did not see the game at all.
This should be fun.

Let's roll out the awards.

We'll accept "Defy Ordinary" because we know we have to.
We'll even look the other way when the "New Pittsburgh" commercials come on, and just pretend nothing ever happened. All because we love FSN and our organization and we're willing to let them make mistakes.
But these starting lineup introductions have got to stop. Never have the boys looked more awkward staring into the camera, wondering why they didn't read their contract clauses a little bit more carefully. For the first few games, okay, maybe. But it's getting to be too late in the season for you to be acting like I don't know where my boys are from. It's the job of the major networks to offend our hockey knowledge, boys. Let Versus spoon feed us information and rules, you just keep making weird references and searching for the blunt you dropped under the broadcasting table.
Although, we must say, the shameful grin Brent Johnson gives when declaring he hails from Detroit, like he knows he's done something wrong, is somewhat precious.

The Penguins start out looking pretty good. Not their best, but not so bad that it's suspicious. You just figure that they're warming up.
Gogo and TK try to make something happening, but some overpassing makes it fail. At this point you're still fine with that, you think it's cute that they are trying. You can see Alex and Tyler hanging out after the game talking about it, giggling about puppies and weaving friendship bracelets into the night. It's not a sign that they overpassed - it's a sign that they were trying to make something happen!
Oh how naive we all were.
Skoula - who is a cutie and doesn't quite understand the famed Danny Potash interview just yet - gets off a great shot on his first shift.
My notes read "Sid and Kuney try something fancy. No dice. Vokoun looks good."
How little I knew back then.

It wasn't all bad news. Skoula may or may not have interfered, we're not really clear on what went down in those moments. No matter. Brent Johnson, our little Michigan boy, stones David Booth, in another display of foreshadowing.
Seriously, this game could be an eighth grade literature lesson.
Staal covers about ten yards of ice when he goes down to block a shot.
The penalty is killed, the Pens have the best third line in hockey, Feds is throwing shit around, Pascal is blocking's kind of lovely. Our penalty kill is looking supurb.
Oh, wait...

Gogo gets called for crosschecking.
We hold it down for a little bit.
Not long enough.

We'll get ours, kitties. You just wait.

At least Bob Errey talked about waffles. Nothing soothes the pain of failure like breakfast food.
They Kitties trap up the rest of the period.
We look hungry for the last minute, but you assume correctly that's it's probably just all of that talk about waffles.

The period starts and it's clear the Penguins are trying a little bit harder this time around.
Brooks gets a hooking call out of Booth. The hook happened, yes, but Brooksie threw in a little production number to make sure it got noticed. We love watching that man throw a fit.
We try to generate something on the PP, but something just isn't right.
"Life without Sergei Gonchar is not so good so far."
Truer words have rarely come from the mouth of Sir Robert Errey.
The PP is tragic without Sarge. It burns us to look.
Come back, Sarge.

In the depths of last season we thought every game we won was the start of a comeback we were wrong all but one time. Sometimes it just isn't the moment that you are looking at.
TK manages some heroic moves; Vokoun is a beast.
Cappy and Billy G go ape shit in front of the net and can't get anything in.
Then before you know it, Kunitz is dropping the gloves with Ballard. They even drop the lids like good boys do. Kuney gets in some swift ones before going down. We'll take it.
Johnson takes down a 3 on 1 opportunity and is holding up his end of the bargain, meanwhile the boys are still overpassing. Huglugluglug.
The period ends with Cappy falling on the blue line like a drunkard, Jordy MIA, and us feeling hopeless again despite the sudden upward spike.

We start the period with a fake PP. We don't really care what the refs are smoking at this point, we'll take what we can get.
Billy G and Malks try to make magic, but it's not happening.
We almost score, but it's on the delayed penalty which spells out awesome. The 5 on 3 looks like it might be ugly for way too long, until an amazing keep play is made and Gogo throws it at the Captain, who proceeds to finally introduce the puck to the back of the Kitties' net.
You would have given up your first born for that goal.
Luckily you can keep them for bartering away in more important games now.

FSN, we almost forgot how bad it really gets back there in the press box.
Errey starts talking about Johnson's mask and Led Zeppelin. Johnson proceeds to get out of the net on a weird bounce, and makes it back just in time not only to block the goal, but to get an interference call against the Kitties. Errey screams "LED ZEPPELIN, BABY!"
Minutes later he's making Dazed and Confused references left and right.
There hasn't been this much pot in Mellon arena since...well, several games last season. But still. We feel like the season is truly under way now.

Booth has been scary in this game. He's been everywhere, all the time, and it's starting to get really annoying. He looses his stick at some point in play and heads to the bench...but then the puck comes his way.
So what does he do?
He grabs the puck and throws it.
Wut. Hold on. One more time.
Errey is in hysterics. "He lost his stick and then he lost his mind." More Dazed and Confused references thrown around.
We wish we could have scored on the following PP, but really, this penalty was a treat in itself.
Dumbest thing we've seen in a game of hockey in forever. It was great.

Things happen, blahblah, goal gets called off, blahblah.
Brooks Orpik gets a penalty.
We're silently cursing him out of anger, having no idea moments later Cappy would be thanking him for it.
First short handed goal of his career.
What a man.

OT gets on our nerves anymore.
But the shootout proves exciting, if only because Errey and Steiggy keep talking about Finnish people and how they can finish. All this Finn talk is getting us excited.
Not nearly as excited as Cappy's lone goal.
Well, didn't someone eat their peanut butter sandwich this morning?
He's our leader for a reason, folks.





1. Johnson The arena was way too filled with marijuana tonight, and the proof is that this boy didn't get a real star. As Brooks said, the man deserved the win.

They call him Johnny. Tee-hee.

2. TK - Still the fastest man alive. On the best line ever. We're sort of in love with him. And we're hiring him out to punch Jordy in the face for worrying us by missing way too much of the game.

3. Gonch - Make more pretty Russian babies while you are away. We love you.

We made it out alive.
We're kind of surprised.
Whatevs. Best October ever.

Go Pens.

Thursday, October 22, 2009


This week featuring

"What time is it?" Eric answers the door clad in gym shorts and a white tee. His hair is askew. We get the impression that he just woke up.
The crew puts their cameras down. "Fuck, are we early again?"
" We're twenty minutes late. Eric, honey, it's 3:52. Were you asleep?"
"No...ahhh...come in. I was just playing Halo. We're grocery shopping, right? Right." He nods to himself before disappearing into the house. We follow behind. "The house is a little messy. Usually, uhh, Bella takes care of that. She's on vacation right now." We move aside the empty pizza boxes, soda cans, and unidentifiable food on grease-soaked paper plates to find a place to sit on the couch. Most of the crew elects to stand. The television screen is paused on Master Chief poised for attack.

"Okay, let's go." He comes back out, nothing changed but his shirt.

In the car on the way to the store, Eric gets on the phone.
"Just one second, I have to call the store." We look at one another, confused, as he talks to someone on the phone. When he hangs up, he looks around at our confused faces. "You know. Just to let them know I'm, uhh, that I'm coming."

Upon arrival at the store, we are greeted at the doors by a man wearing a white smock. "Mister Godard! So pleased to see you!" He looks nervous. "Please, come back into the kitchen and see if everything is correct. We follow him as far as the doors into the kitchen, and he then gives us the one-minute signal. We wait about fifteen minutes before he comes back out. "Okay. They're loading my truck." He starts to walk but feels us hesitate. "Uhh, I need them to deliver it. Separately. I like the guy who butchers here, so I use him for uhh, most of my beef. I get my bacon and stuff from, uhh, another guy downtown. That truck comes on Mondays. I can't have them all come at once, so I split it up."
"So, uhh, mostly that's it. I get a few other things while I'm here." We follow him through the aisles as he grabs various things from the shelves. "Gushers. I eat a lot of those. And pop-tarts. Those are my favorites."
He grabs some A1 steak sauce from the shelf and turns around with purpose to address us. "A good steak doesn't need steak sauce. But I have to get some. Sometimes I get distracted by, uhh, the x-box. And then things get a little weird and I need this. But normally this is off limits."
He grabs some canned vegetables and an unusual amount of beans with no explanation. He throws two jars of peanut butter into the cart with an eye roll. "Me? I like peanut butter right out of the jar. With my fingers. Sid comes over sometimes. Parties and things. He's afraid to eat the steak because I won't cook it the way he wants it. He ruins steak. So he eats, uhh, peanut butter sandwiches. But he won't use jars I put my fingers in." He rolls his eyes again. We nod our heads understandingly. We too have been subject to Cappy's love of peanut butter sandwiches.
With that, we proceed to the checkout line. The woman at the register called out to us. "Mister Godard! you can go to register number 5!" Register number 5 opens immediately. He moves forward. The total almost makes us faint, but he dismisses it with a wave. "This is an easy week. Usually we're looking at double this, but I'm not expecting company this week."
"This is a weekly trip?!" A crew member asks. We elbow him in the ribs to shut him up.
Eric shrugs. He swipes the card and moves on. "So uhhh, do you guys need to see like, uhh, me put this shit in the freezer when the truck gets to my house?"
We shake our heads, fearful of what emptying the trucks would look like.
"Uhh, okay Eric. I guess we'll...uhh...catch you later."
"Yeah, uhh, okay. Awesome. I'll see you guys later. Let me know if you need anything."
"Yes, Eric. Of course." And with that we ran from the store, not sure if we should fear for our lives or not.

And thus concludes grocery shopping with Eric Godard.

Go Pens.

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Puck Huffers by Kimberly Davidson and Zoƫ Hayden is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.