"It's as if he knows I am here"

Before every Penguins game, my husband and I play this little game. We will each say who we think is going to score. Sometimes we make wagers. His usually is some sexual task I must perform. Mine usually involves him doing some household chore. I say "Craig" a lot. He says "Max" a lot. My intense love for Craig Adams is well known, so my dear husband usually just rolls his eyes and hopes that his guy scores so he can cash in on some kink. Mr. Adams isn't known for his goal-scoring.


My dad bought us Penguins v Islanders tickets for Christmas. So we get to the arena a little early. We're sitting there in our seats. Me in my Adams shirtzee. I turned to him and said, "Craig is going to score tonight". He rolls his eyes and says, "pfffft. No he isn't." I, with a straight face, said, "He is. He scores every time I come to a game." We both laughed. (Note: I have been to one other game. It was game one in the first round of playoffs last year against the Senators. Craig scored but we lost.) My husband says, "If Max scores, you know what you have to do." I say, "No, there's no time. I have to clean the cat litter." He said, "If Craig scores, I'll clean the litter boxes." Then it occurs to me that my friend and I got there early at that game at the Mellon and we watched all the guys drive in and walk into the arena. I almost dropped my camera over the wall when Craig stepped out of his car (that's when I realized how intense my love for him was) because my hands started shaking. I yelled, "Love you, Craig!" like some idiot. So I told my husband that he might not score because I didn't get to tell him I love him.


So I'm giving Craig juju while he's sitting on the bench. Wiggling my fingers at him and sending him telepathic messages of how deeply I love him.


There is no scoring in this game and I know it's driving my husband nuts. It's thrilling for me because I love defense. By the third period, everybody is on the edge of their seats because we all know that it's only going to take one goal. And I am loving this game more and more as the minutes tick away. Fleury is playing out of his mind, which I sensed was going to happen anyway. He's been amazing lately and he had such swagger during warm-ups. I turn to my husband and say, "the next shift they're out. That's when Craig is going to score." And to me, Craig scoring is just him showing up on the scoresheet but to my husband it means his stick has to put the puck in. Tomato Tomahto. So the 4th line has a shift or two come and go. And then it happens. I scream and celebrate like the drunk guy in the penguin costume down by the glass and then I bust out laughing. Because how funny is that? So I turn to my husband and say, "It's as if he knows I am here." He rolled his eyes at me. I mean, I know I'm not the only Craig Adams fan in Pittsburgh but I'm pretty sure I was the only one there who was actually betting on him to score and I'm 99% positive that I was the only one in attendance (aside from him) sporting his name and number on my back.

When we got home, I hung outside with the dogs for a few minutes. When I came back in, husband was cleaning out the litter box. But he got the sex. He knew he was getting some anyway because, I mean, come on, Craig Adams scored.

Thank you, Craig, for once again being my hero.