rematch screamatch

I wanted to keep watching the Blackhawks for a while. They were burning up the place in the third period. Not enough. Patrick Kane's goal was what hockey dreams are made of. Not enough. Cristobal Huet stood on his head. Not enough. Niklas Hjalmarsson tried to seduce the ladies with a sweet slide save. Not enough. Duncan Keith had me convinced for sixty minutes a few days a week that I should probably move to Chicago to be closer to where he is. Not enough?


Wait. I got off track.

Toews, Kane, Sharp, Burish, Havlat, Ladd, Pahlsson, Seabrook, Campbell, Versteeg, Byfuglien, Eager... I can't believe I remember all those names and it's not even my team.

What I guess the whole point of this is, is that I *heart* the Blackhawks. I cannot wait to watch them in the fall.





I have to wait until the fall? *sob* Thank Scuderi for Blackhawks TV.

I suppose it's better for me as a fan going into this against a team that I can't work up any happy for. I do not like the Red Wings. They have skill. They have experience. What they lack is heart. They lack the passion. We have all of that. What we may lack in experience, we make up for with heart. We make up for it with passion. My team. Pittsburgh's team is going to the Stanley Cup Finals. Against Detroit. For the second year in a row. This year is ours.
Hossa? I don't give a shit about Hossa but there's a quiet place in my brain that takes comfort in the fact that our team probably does. There's a quiet place, a peaceful place that knows Hossa has a lot of free candy coming his way.

Hossa doesn't belong with our guys anyway. Our guys play because they love this sport.

Our guys play because they believe in this team.


Last year this was new and a little intimidating.

This year we're grabbing it and holding on.

This is our year.