Fortitude

Last night I watched the single greatest performance by a Pittsburgh Penguin goalie in my short 18 years of watching the world's fastest, most exciting game. Marc Andre Fleury kept the Penguins in the fight. Ryan Malone took a sixty mile an hour puck in the face and was bleeding profusely onto the ice after dropping like a stone. Even the ref was trying to catch the dripping blood in his hands while guiding Malone to the bench. Malone was back after the intermission for the rest of the game. That's guts. That's heart. That's championship hockey.

The opening period was fantastic, and probably the best period of play for the Penguins during the entire Stanley Cup series. It was good enough to give them a 2-0 lead. The second was bad, which let the winged wheels get within one, and the third was pitiful. The Red Wings were a mere 35 seconds from being able to skate around carrying Lord Stanley's Cup with a 3-2 win in front of their fans when Maxime Talbot stuffed in the tying score. Unbelieveable.....

Saturday night was pretty depressing for me. I watched the Penguins go down at home to Detroit in a game I didn't get to see much of. I watched the last five minutes, and they looked bad, so I assumed they looked bad the whole game. I just knew the Penguins were finished, and like me, much of the hockey world was writing them off as done for the year with last night's game being a mere formality.

My good friend Craig, the Red Wings fan, called me last night to shoot the breeze a bit and talk hockey. He said the Penguins actually looked good in Saturday's game, but just couldn't muster any more than a single goal. We talked about how we've been able to witness some good hockey, either way. Even when the Pens are taking a beating, it's good to see beautiful hockey being played. The Motor City team is just awesome. They are so good at controlling the puck and winning the neutral zone battle, the Pens don't have many chances to get their high-powered offense rolling. They need to learn to capitalize on those few chances. If they can do that, they may be able to pull off what would be the greatest upset comeback I've ever seen.

Either way, conversations with one of my best friends in this world are always good. His wife is expecting, but he was able to get in a little hockey time to escape chores and things to do around the house. I wished him well and told him he'd likely get to see his Winged Warriors hoist the cup later in the evening. We never gloat about our teams when the other's is taking a smack-down. Even when Craig went to the Burgh with us to see my beloved Steelers take his KC Chiefs to the clinic. There was no gloating. No boisterous nanana... We just had a fantastic time. His Chiefs had beaten the crap out of the Steelers the year before (or maybe the year before that) when we all went to see them in Kansas City's awesome Arrowhead Stadium. Either way, we know when the other is down, you don't step on the heart. Love you, Brother.

The first overtime of last night's marathon was awful. I think the red hornets on the ice outshot my Pens by something like 15-2. Crazy. They swarmed everywhere, and Fleury saved every one of the shots they took. Awe inspiring. The second overtime was better for us, and we had several chances. It looked like a more even matchup, but still no score for anyone. The third looked just like the second OT until halfway through, a high stick in the face that drew blood gave the Penguins a double-minor power play. That's when Petr Sykora took a shot from the point that whistled past Osgood's left shoulder. Victory. How sweet it is.

I'm tired today, since I was up until midnight for the four and a half hour game, but I'll rest up tonight in preparation for Wednesday's game 6 in the Igloo. Maybe. Just maybe.....

CZ