Crosschecked

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(Photo from Yahoo! Sports)

Will someone please tell Dave that it only counts as a goal if the player takes the puck with him? This *gestures upwards* does not count. Neither does a billion penalties, deciding to play only two of the requisite three periods or injuring an opposing player in the EYE with your SKATE. Because that happened too. It’s like freakin’ Un chien andalou out there. (Heh, film school WAS good for something).

Pretty much the only worthwhile thing that happened on the ice looked like this.

Because that’s old time hockey, eh?

However, perhaps the greatest thing I heard all of last night came from the gentleman seated behind me. Eric Lindros, who now plays for the Maple Leafs, is not what you would call one of my favorite players. Apologies to Mer but I have never, ever liked the guy and the thought of him doing well sets my teeth on edge. Anyway, he’s been privy to many concussions throughout his career and the large man behind me thought he should sustain another one.

“Give Lindros anotha’ concussion! They gotta get Colton Orr to jus’ line ’em up and drill ‘im right inta the glass. Just SMACK! Then he’ll be all droolin’ and doin’ colorin’ books for tha rest a his life.”

Hee. I liked that guy. That guy can be my friend. He wasn’t quite as awesome as Trinkets Man, but then, who would be?

Of course, it all would have been better if the Bruins had, you know, won. Sigh.

I am pleased to report, however, that Marianne’s full immersion into hockey is now complete. We stopped by the Pro Shop on the way out and she purchased a Bruins hat. “You know,” she said, “I think I’m really a fan now. I mean, they just made me so mad with the sucking that I want to break things and I still stop at the Pro Shop and drop money on their merchandise. I think that makes me a true fan.”

“I think so too,” I said, “Well done.”

Oh, also? Just for shits and giggles? I present, Baby Ben: Hell’s Angel.

Hee. Hee. Heeeeeee.

*cue uncontrollable laughter*

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