Five Hole & Six On the Board

Cascading down, like a beautiful snowfall. The air trapped in the nearly perfect head of a freshly poured Guinness draught looks like a snowfall in the darkest of nights. It tastes even better than it looks when it finally settles and flows down my throat just as smooth as if it weren't there at all.

It's perfect weather outside, too, and I'm enjoying this beer as I type with the doors and windows open, fresh air blowing through. The back side of the house is where the sun room is, and it's perfect because the sun sets on the front side, keeping the scorching sun at bay for the end of a perfect day.

I'm in a fantastic mood and a perfect state of mind because the day was nearly perfect. A perfect breakfast was followed by great lounging time on the couch and the drinking of a nearly perfect cup of coffee. This afternoon I got to see the Pittsburgh Penguins absolutely annihilate the Philadelphia Flyers. I got to a point where I couldn't remember each goal to savor it, because after three, they just kept coming. My Pens were relentless. Six to nothing was the final, and it was very close to perfect.

A perfect storm is what they had to be today, and they came through with flying colors. I can't believe it's been sixteen years since I've seen them in the finals for the Stanley Cup. Many heartbreaking games I've seen. I watched a gut wrenching five overtime game, I think one of the longest in NHL history, a few years ago against, ironically, the Flyers. I've been there through the lean years. The years when Lemieux was hanging on to help a young, struggling team. Coming out of retirement, retiring again. Bringing the team back from the brink of actually moving out of Pittsburgh. He's been everything to the Pens. He brought in two giant TRANE air conditioners to pump cold air into the Igloo today after a few of the Pens voiced their opinions that the rink was a little warm. Nothing like a little cold air to fire things up a little.

Now is the time. Perfect poke checks, pretty passes on the tape, and a perfect goalie. That's what it will take in the next round. We got a glimpse of it today, and they'll have to bring a few more of those for the team from the west.

The Prince of Wales cup was brought out at the end of the game, and like a captain should, Crosby posed for the requisite picture with the trophy, but didn't get closer than a foot. Tradition. History. Being champion of the east means nothing if you don't win it all. That is the goal. Win it all. Lord Stanley's Cup. Now there is history. I feel it. Or maybe that's just the second beer....