Game recap: Pens/Isles. Pens win in OT 4-3

You guys. It’s a been a long time since we’ve talked. I moved to another country. I fell on my head really hard and got a gnarly concussion. My internet connection was non-existent for weeks. Ah, life. Sometimes she is a real hellcat.

As you well know, the sweet, agonizing magic of the playoffs is upon us once more. Of course we draw the Isles, right? Who else would it be? They’re like the tiny pebble that gets stuck in the bottom of your shoe while you’re out running errands. It’s just a small rock that makes a slightly unpleasant scraping sound when you walk, you guys. It shouldn’t be able to dick with you whole life BUT OH— IT DOES. You know what I’m talking about. This wasn’t just a playoff series. It was vengeance. Time to pull out a pair of surgical tweezers, yank that ridiculous, whiny rock out of our shoe, and LAUNCH IT INTO THE OCEAN WHERE IT BELONGS ONCE AND FOR FUCKING ALL.

I don’t have time to get into it. I wish I did. But you know what? It’s actually not a big deal, because this time I really only need three words. Do you know what they are? You totally do. Let’s all say it together:

BROOKS.

FUCKING.

ORPIK.

Free Candy, you guys. FREE CANDY for everyone.

Sens are next. I’ll be back with real recaps for this series, pinky promise. Holy crap I can’t wait. Are you excited? How are you guys doing, anyway?

Feels good to be back.

Cheers, and thanks for reading.

The Plot Thickens: In which I describe an unfortunate turn of events

You guys. Remember when I said I wouldn’t be blogging as much as I’d like for a few months because I’m studying in Italy? Well, that’s still true. However, I was planning on getting back to the grind this week after suffering some pretty severe blogging withdrawals.

BUT THEN. My head got intimate with the cold, hard ground, and yours truly ended up with a nasty concussion. As luck would have it, this is my second concussion in six months.

I know. I’m a regular Sidney Crosby. (Too soon?)

Anyway, as you’re all hockey fans, you know that multiple concussions are Not A Good Thing. That being said, I’m doing just fine and healing very nicely— but it will be another few days before I’m back on the horse. Just a little head’s up (hey-O!), since some of you have been sweet enough to write me asking when I was going to start posting recaps again. I promise I will just as soon as I am able. And like a certain number 87, I plan to come back with a mighty vengeance. 

Thanks for your patience, and as always, thanks for reading!

Game notes: Rangers/Pens. Rangers win 6-1.

Let’s Go Rangers?

Sometimes when people ask me what my favorite movie is, I tell them something respectable like Rashomon or Vertigo or The Seventh Seal or whatever. But honestly, it’s Dumb and Dumber. Which, as you may know, features the following quote: “Just when I think you couldn’t possibly be any dumber, you go and do something like this…AND COMPLETELY REDEEM YOURSELF!”

The Rangers beat the Pens last night. Everyone came to play. Everyone. 

So much happy!

But I should clarify. When I say ‘everyone’, I do not mean Marian Gaborik, who now hustles for the Columbus Blue Jackets. But I do mean Ryan Clowe, Derrick Brassard, and John Moore who apparently did not read the memo taped to the door— the one that said WELCOME TO NEW YORK: PLEASE REFRAIN FROM SCORING. Brassard and Moore hit the ice just 15 minutes after arriving in New York, and then combined for two goals and three assists (Moore: 1 G, Brassard: 1 G, 3 A) on the night. Clowe got his name on the score sheet just days after making the move from San Jose. What in the name of Messier is that about? The noobs took the welcome mat, doused it in fine champagne, and set it on fire.

Welcome. We love you already.

Oh, and on the subject of Gaborik— he deserves sincere thanks for his services to the club, but I have felt for a long time that Gabby needed to go. His performance this year was absolutely horrendous, but more than that he just didn’t look happy. Square peg, round hole. I wish him all the best in Columbus. And he gets to play with Dubinsky and Anisimov again. That’s cool, right?

Anyhoo. Back to all the goals. Brian Boyle picked one up to start things off in the first, and also notched three assists. Ryan McDonagh collected a pair of goals. Brad Richards had three assists, Dan Girardi had one.  Granted the Pens defense was asleep at the wheel (also asleep at the wheel: the Pens offense, aside from Pascal Dupuis, because of course. The man is a warrior), but wouldn’t it have been just like the Rangers to fail miserably to take advantage of that fact?

Somehow, though, they managed to turn on the charm and seal the deal.

So what clicked? Don’t act like you know, because no one knows. The team has been nearly impossible to diagnose this season. Maybe this new group of players can manage to stop the blood that has been gushing directly out of our hearts since we banished Brandon Prust and the aformentioned Dubinsky and Anisimov. Will the Rangers give a similar performance tomorrow night in Pittsburgh? Flip a coin. Let’s be honest— there’s nothing about the Rangers performance this season to  suggest that a win of this magnitude could herald a lasting upward swing.

But then again, we know they can do it. Hell, we’ve always known they can do it. Sticks up and fingers crossed, boys. We’re all hoping that you, too, will be able to go from this:


To this:
The look of success if I have ever seen it.

Cheers, and thanks for reading.

Game notes: Rangers/Pens. Rangers win 6-1

So…that happened.

Clearly— and I’m saying this with great deal of love— the Pens have some adjusting to do. Yes, Crosby is still out and that’s obviously huge. But the continued absence of Kris Letang and Paul Martin is a pretty big challenge too. I mean, it is, but…it isn’t? I really believe that the Pens have all the depth they need, but that doesn’t do much good unless everyone is on the same page. And I don’t know what book the Pens were reading last night but it did not contain any chapters titled, “Giving Two Shits: How To Appear As If You Do” or “Defense: A Love Letter”. 

And who, may I ask, is in charge here?

I do not think that the Pens are destined for shipwreck simply because they’re sailing with a Sidney Crosby-shaped hole in the boat for a while. I do, however, imagine there are a few people in that locker room glancing around and wondering how all the pieces fit together with the keystone missing. It’s absolutely fixable. Fine-tuning, boys. Let’s do some.

Still in it to win it.

Anyway. Rangers perspective to follow soon.

Cheers and thanks for reading.

Game notes: Pens/Sabres. Sabres win 4-1.

You’re eating an ice cream sundae. No, I’m sorry, you’re eating a superlative, 100% delectable ice cream sundae. It’s everything you ever could have wanted, as far as desserts go. It even has a glistening, juicy cherry on top.

And it’s ALL YOURS.

Then your little brother starts wailing behind you. You whip your body around in your seat awkwardly. Your elbow hits something…something cold. My god, the cherry. You watch helplessly as it rolls quietly off the table and onto the bare floor.

You’re freaking out inside. WHY EVEN BOTHER LIVING NOW?

But it’s all going to be just FINE, little buddy! No need to fret. Who cares about the cherry on top, you still have literally the best post-dinner treat MAN HAS EVER KNOWN in front of you. Right?

What I’m trying to tell you is that the Pens lost to the Sabres. OK. No biggie. Still #CupOrDie around here.

Hell, what can you do? Sometimes you win 15 games straight, setting a record for the second-longest win streak in NHL history, and sometimes you lose 4-1 to Jason Pominville and his jolly band of C students. C students except for Ryan Miller— he’s totes in all AP courses. Steve Ott dropped out but is for some reason still smoking in the Seniors Only parking lot.

There were of course highs along with the lows last night. Jarome Iginla scored his first goal as a Penguin. Let’s give the man a proper slow clap and not let that little milestone get lost in the shuffle.

You’re really one of us now!

And, ladies and gentlemen, I’d also like you to turn your attention to Brooks Orpik. Number 44 now has more career appearances than any other Penguins denfenseman in history, 622 to be exact. Tap your goddamn sticks on the ice, y’all. Three cheers for Free Candy.

Yes, Brooks. You get a slow clap too.

Also of note was the fact that Marc Andre Fleury saw a little action after Vokoun got invited back to the bench. He stopped all 16 of the shots he faced. Don’t tease us, MAF. How’s the head feeling?

Flower. Je t’aime.

Next up is a home-and-home against the Rangers, which should be interesting. The last time I tried to recap the Pens/Rangers game my brain turned inside out and I could smell colors for a week.

Anyway, let’s all get back to enjoying the fact that our team is still dominating. And someone should probably bring Sidney Crosby a bite of that sundae. You can eat ice cream with a broken jaw, right?

Cheers, and thanks for reading.

Game recap: Pens/Islanders. Pens win 2-0

This game was kind of like an Easter egg hunt (not really, but I’m going with a holiday intro, so deal). But in this case, as you scurry around the hedges in your starchy white pinafore, you quickly realize that a lot of the eggs are filled with things like battery acid, and toenail clippings, and bloody teeth. Sidney Crosby’s teeth.

How could this go wrong?

Frustration takes over. You’re sitting on the lawn amongst the clover and cursing the Easter bunny for all he’s worth. Fluffy little flop-eared jag. Not even your sweet Uncle Jarome with his hot-chocolate-on-a-snowy-day smile can make you feel better.

Lucky for you, you have a mom and dad and grandparents who love you, and who have secretly hidden freaking SOLID GOLD NUGGETS around the yard just in case the Holiday Lagomorph comes up short.

TAKE THAT, RABBIT. Anyway, point being: the game turned out alright. Let’s roll.

1st pd.

All you need to know about the first period is that Sidney Crosby got hit by a Brooks Orpik slapshot right in his precious, angelic mouth.

Slapshot. In the mouth.

Sidney Crosby. During his first shift, a puck flew through the air with great velocity and landed directly on his talking/chewing parts.

Did you hear me? Did you hear Steiggy and Errey mention it 657,842,228 times? THIS WAS A BIG STORYLINE, OK?

What kind of nonsense is this?

Now Dan has to reshuffle all his lines and we’ve got Tyler Kennedy playing center, Dupuis all over the dang place, James Neal oscillating wildly between left and right wing…things are messed up, man. The period ends and our only two shots have come from Deryk Engelland. At this point we don’t know if Sid is coming back or what.

Welcome to Bizarro World. Find a comfy chair, because we’re going to be here for a while.

2nd pd.

We start the 2nd by successfully killing what’s left of a Deryk Engelland hooking penalty. Apparently Engo wants to see his name in print tonight because he’s all over this one early on. The kill goes fine, thankfully.

Maybe it’s the combination of Sid being MIA and all our new guys out on the ice, but things just feel weird for most of this period. Accidentally wearing our shirt backwards all day weird. Store-brand Oreos weird.
Eewwwwwww.

Andrew MacDonald gets booked for tripping, but all that happens on the resulting power play is that Kunitz blasts one waay wide, and Dupuis fans on a slap shot seconds later. Duper is playing right point because WEIRD.

We get an update: Crosby will not be rejoining us this evening. OK. It’s like that, huh Universe? SERENITY NOW.

Jarome Iginla, bless his warm and fuzzy heart, sets up James Neal with a beautiful little pass in front of the net, but Nabokov says no way. I would like to take this opportunity to say how curse-wording awesome it is that Jarome is a Penguin. Welcome, sir. Extra mega bonus points for pulling an epic PSYCHE move on Boston. You really thought you had him, you silly bears.

Poor BBs.

The weird keeps on rolling as Kunitz, who everyone knows is a harmless little hedgehog who just likes to score wicked goals, gets a boarding major and a game misconduct after a 100% legitimate shoulder hit on Josh Bailey. The penalty was bullshit, but we do hope that Bailey is OK. He did not return to the game.

During the kill, Matt ever-loving Cooke gallops onto the ice bellowing ‘THIS SHALL NOT STAND’ and proceeds to put the hurt on every Islander he sees. He is an absolute beast down low, on the half boards, everywhere. The crowd is out of their seats. Cookie is a one-man penalty killing machine. Someone starts passing around a petition to exempt him from next month’s Moustache Boy. It gets over 6 million signatures in under two minutes.

 But wait! The fun doesn’t stop there! As Cooke continues his righteous crusade, the Universe decides to throw us another curveball and Brooks Orpik gets called for hooking. Now we have to deal with a 5-on-3. I repeat:

This is how the period ends.

We’re gonna be OK, right Dad? Dad??

3rd pd.

For those of you keeping count, our top line— AKA the top line in the entire NHL— has now been completely dismantled and team dad Pascal Dupuis is the last man standing. We are not amused. Duper seems to have things under control when he chats with Dan Potash during the 2nd period intermission, but he can only manage a weary, half-hearted version of his usual “Daaaaan”. Dan hangs his head and sheds a single, mournful tear.

We come out of the gate ready to fight the good fight in the 3rd. We take the remaining minutes of the 5-on-3 and KILL THEM TO DEATH. We are not going down like chumps, Universe. DO YOU HEAR US?

Suddenly it starts to feel like we’re finally shaking the weird off. The Iginla-Malkin-Neal line has a fearsome shift, passing with furious accuracy and pelting Nabokov with shots from every angle. The puck ends up back at the blue line where Despres acccidentally turns it over to Michael Grabner, who takes off on a breakaway. No biggie, Vokoun is there to slam the door in his face. Have I mentioned that Vokoun has been solid as a rock tonight? He is a blessed spot of consistency in a night that has otherwise been a drunken, sideways roller-coaster ride.

THEN, right after Vokoun sends Grabner to bed with no dessert, knight in shining armor Matt Cooke reappears and sends one home off an Engo rebound. GOAL, suckers! Pens are up 1-0. In the name of Crosby’s mouth, WE WILL WIN THIS.

Oh yeah, another update: Crosby has been sent to the hospital for Extreme Makeover: Hockey Edition dental work. He’ll probably have some blank spaces where his teeth used to be when all is said and done, but it looks like that‘s the worst of it. Poor little buddy. Am I the only one who thinks he’ll be kind of adorable with missing teeth?

Cookie’s goal has got everyone fired up. James Neal makes a thunderous hit on Travis Hamonic directly in front of the corner camera, sending a shower of delight across the realm. It is a perfect storm of body placement- meets camera placement- meets James Neal is pissed off and wants in on this action.

Nealer soon proves that monster-truck body shots aren’t all he has to offer, as he rockets up the right wing and treats Nabokov to one of his trademark faster-than-a-speeding-bullet wrist shots. GOAL. Neal is relieved- he hasn’t made an appearance on the score sheet for his previous nine games. We weren’t worried or anything, Nealer, but we’re glad you’ve got your scoring touch back. Oh and by the way, KICK ROCKS, ISLANDERS. 2-0 Pens.

Finally, after the Isles pull Nabokov with about three minutes remaining and fail in their attempts to tally, it’s over. It’s all over. Merciful heavens, this was exhausting.

Pens win. FIFTEEN GAMES unbeaten, kiddos. It was a wild and weird ride tonight, but we got home safely in the end. Also, we got to welcome Uncle Jarry into the fold.

So glad you could join us.

Let’s keep this thing going. Join me as I raise a toast to an entire calendar month of winning, and to Sid’s prompt return.

Cheers, and thanks for reading.

Semi-Goodbye For Now (but not really, but possibly kind of, but not if I can help it): in which I offer an apology in advance

Hi guys! So here’s the deal: the next few months of my life are going to be an enormous blessing, wrapped tightly around a horrible nightmare. The blessing is that I get to live in Europe until mid-summer. The nightmare, of course, is that starting tomorrow I will not be able to follow the rest of the NHL season as closely as I would like. The idea of missing the playoffs has literally caused me to lose sleep on multiple occasions, for real, in real life. If a certain team that I love (name starts with a ‘P’, ends with a ‘not Philadelphia’) makes it to the Cup finals and I don’t get to watch every single minute, I will cry actual tears. But you know, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.

So, if you are a regular reader of this blog, I apologize for the fact that I probably won’t be able to post as often as I’d like for the remainder of the 2013 season. Due to the time difference, it will be very difficult for me to watch games live or in their entirety. I am going to do my best to keep up, and will still recap as many games as I can, to whatever extent possible.

If you have any experience in watching the NHL from Europe (I know that’s kind of a weird topic), please let me know. I will need all the help I can get. Or if you have reliable links to full-game replays, or extended highlights, or anything of that nature, please send them my way.

On a side note, I will be blogging about my experience abroad. I don’t have a link yet, but if you’re interested in following me, send me a message and I’ll point you in the right direction.

Anyway, I hope you’ll stick with me even though I may have to dial things back a fair bit. Thank you so much for reading. You guys are the awesomest, most funny, intelligent, engaging followers that Tumblr has ever known and I’m really grateful for your patience.

Cheers,

Julia

Game Recap: Rangers/Caps. Caps win 3-2 (S/O)

So close, yet so not close at all.

Best view in the world. (Courtesy of me.)

Full disclosure: last night was an extra special game for me because I was there, man. Yup— my first ever Rangers game at the Garden. I’m from the west coast, so my relationship with the Rangers has always been a long distance affair. Unsurprisingly, the experience of being at MSG and watching the dudes do their thing live was exponentially better than watching on television (more on that at the end of this post).

I mean aside from the fact that the Rangers lost.

Going into this contest, the Rangers were the number nine seed in the east, while the Caps were snugly nestled in the number 11 spot. It’s always hard to predict how a bottom-of-the-barrel match up like this will unfold— will each team play their hardest, hoping to fan the tiny flame of self respect to which they so desperately cling, much to the relief of their loyal fans? Or will spectators instead find themselves watching no one‘s favorite three-act play, “Hockey: It Shouldn’t Look Like This” ? Well folks, last night it was a little of both.

1st period:

Things begin predictably for the Rangers, which means lots of poorly-timed passing and feeble attempts at breaking out of the neutral zone. Marian Gaborik shows he has good ideas, but his attack comes to a halt the minute anyone gives him a mean look or even breathes in his direction. He is as delicate as a blush-colored cherry blossom in springtime. Although Ryan Callahan can’t quite seem to find his rhythm, he’s still working hard to move the puck into the zone. So there’s that.

Anton Straalman gets nabbed for a dubious holding penalty about eight minutes in, which is immediate cause for concern because the Caps somehow have the best power play in the league. Nicklas Backstrom promptly demonstrates why as he goes to the net and farts one in, despite the fact that Dan Girardi and Ryan McDonagh are standing DIRECTLY NEXT TO AND IN FRONT OF HIM in the crease. Embarrassing.  From my seat I have an excellent view of the ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ look that Henrik Lundqvist throws at his defense.

Please let this be a dream.

After another failed cross-ice pass from the Rangers, the Caps regain possession and begin a cheerful romp through our defensive zone. They are like grizzly bears cavorting by the roadside, while the Rangers are pasty, shorts-and-socks wearing tourists who are happy to stand back and just watch the magic happen. Ovechkin tips it in while we’re busy reloading the film in our cameras. He is the fastest of all the grizzlies, if not the most attractive. We can’t wait to show these pictures to our grandchildren. 2-0 Caps.

Wasn’t there a sign about not feeding the bears?

But just when you think all hope is lost, Arron Asham is suddenly flying up the left wing, flanked by recent minor league call-up Chris Newbury. No one in the building expects anything to come of this, including Braden Holtby. But before I can finish the next sip of my drink, Asham has buried the puck in the net and suddenly it’s 2-1. Huh? We are back in the game, courtesy of the player I regularly refer to as ‘the guy I can’t believe we paid actual American money for’. I’m a jerk. Fantastic work, Arron.

Way to prove a blogger wrong, dude.

Late in the first, the hockey gods decide to part the clouds and shine a heavenly beam of light onto MSG, giving the Rangers a two-man advantage as Chimera and Alzner get sent to the box in rapid succession. I turn to the friend next to me, who has never been to a hockey game before, and say “This should be a good thing but it probably won’t”. Derek Stepan has had enough of my lip, and decides to prove me wrong by sniping one in from a terrible angle, off a feed from Brad Richards. My eyes get larger and my mouth gets smaller. The game is tied at two apiece.

Don’t act like you knew this would happen.

Hot damn- are things about to get interesting? (answer to follow shortly)

2nd and 3rd periods

Answer to the above question: not really, no. I won’t bother recapping the second and third separately or in any kind of depth because not much happened. It wasn’t boring hockey, but it wasn’t eventful hockey either. During the latter periods, I spent much of my time scanning the luxury suites for Marc Staal. He’s feeling better, you guys! And Jordan and Eric have started wearing visors! My seat was directly below the suites, and therefore shared the same luxurious, classy hallway. If you think I didn’t take an extra long time going to and from the bathroom, hoping I’d run into someone famous, you are GROSSLY MISTAKEN, my friend.

Michael Del Zotto really impressed me last night, especially during the second and third periods when he was the only Ranger who was playing angry. Why wasn’t anyone else playing angry? DZ may not have done anything to land himself in the highlight reel, but his head was clearly in the right place. Coach Tortorella must have taken notice because 4 logged more minutes than any other player last night aside from Hank, with a grand total of 26:24. Well earned.

Why can’t your brothers play more like you, Mikey?

Ribeiro, Perreault, and Johansson were the three Caps names cursed most frequently by Rangers fans during periods two and three. For some reason we were letting these guys run all over the place— we gave them all the time and space they could have ever hoped for. Ribeiro forced Hank to make two of his best saves of the night (one in the second and another in the third). And late in the third, Perreault managed to throw himself right on top of our beloved Henrik, prompting the guy behind me to scream, “I TOLD YOU we should have punched Perreault earlier! He has a FRENCH NAME, come on!” Did I mention that Rangers fans are awesome?

We will straight up cheer your faces off.

By the way, Mike Green was back in the Caps lineup and seemed to be trying to make an impact on both offense and defense. You know, if you’re into that kind of thing.

Despite the Caps best efforts, and thanks to the fact that the Rangers didn’t simply keel over and die, regulation ends with the score still tied 2-2.

Overtime

(in which the Rangers play with a moderate amount of intensity and Ovechkin fires a shot that causes me to clench my fists and utter curse words)


Shoot Out

Rick Nash’s crazy long reach finally failed him during the shoot out, much to the chagrin of Rangers fans everywhere. Ovi scored, which always sucks. For a minute it looked like it was lights out for the Broadway Blueshirts, but then Derek Stepan, without a doubt this season’s unsung hero, dangled and scored on the bland and listless Braden Holtby. Which brings us to…

Nicklas Backstrom. The man who started things off with a fart. It all comes down to this single Swede-on-Swede shoot out attempt. Who will return to the Royal Kingdom wearing the glorious mantle of victory? Hank trains his flawless, steely eyes upon the advancing enemy. Backstrom brushes his perpetually grimy hair from his cherubic face, and approaches with speed. Forehand. Backhand. Forehand. He shoots! And…

He scores.

Shit. Game over. Rangers lose.

Hank slams his stick against the glass before storming through the door and off the ice. I have not seen him look this angry before. It was a little frightening, but also awesome because I was seeing it live.

Rangers fans, I don’t know what to say about our playoff hopes this season. Our team…well, our team does lots of amazing charity work and wears the sharpest, most well-tailored suits in the NHL, hands down. That’s something, right?

What do you mean they don’t give points for wearing the crap out of a suit and tie?

But despite our murky short-term future, there is one thing I do know, now more than ever: Rangers fans are awesome. Spending the evening at the Garden was a dream come true for me, a dream that was even better than I expected thanks to people like the beefy guy two rows in front of me, who started the Let’s Go Rangers chant in the middle of the national anthem. The tween girl next to me, wearing a Jagr jersey and poring over the stat printout provided for members of the media, and who gave me an adorable, shy high-five after Stepan scored in the shoot out.  The grandpa watching the game from the comfort of his motorized scooter, shouting at Gaborik to stop playing scared. And my lovely friend Sophia, who as I said had never been to a hockey game before, but who left a fan. You guys made my night, and you are what makes this team special.

Cheers, and thanks for reading.

Hockey: They’re Doing It Right— Episode II

(part of a continuing series in which I give credit where credit is due)

In this episode, the Chicago Blackhawks dis-freaking-mantle the Colorado Avalanche 5-2

Cut to: third period

Colorado, let’s start with the good news. You made use of almost every possession you had in the third period of last night’s game. You didn’t get a ton of shots on net, but you were accurate. You didn’t roll over, and your goaltending actually wasn’t as quite bad as the score would suggest.

Unfortunately this all adds up to shit because you were playing the Blackhawks. And the Blackhawks were ridiculous.
Yoink.

It seemed like Colorado failed to make a single successful east-west pass during the entire third period, so pervasive was Chicago’s team defense and incisive forechecking. Kane and Co. have got to be the most efficient team in the NHL right now, purely in terms of their incredible economy of movement. Every effort feels like it has a distinct purpose, with a noticeable lack of scrambling and approximately zero wasted energy. The Blackhawks are on the ice for exactly two purposes: to score, and to remove the puck from you so that they can score some more. End of story.

No time for small talk.

Chicago played with more intensity in the third period, with a two-goal (and later three-goal) lead, than I have seen my own NY Rangers other teams play with at any point during this season. They did not look satisfied with the score, they did not let up on the surgically precise checking. Not even for a minute. How many times did the Hawks steal the puck along the boards last night? 

Answer: a lot. A lot of times.

Anyway, nice work Chicago. You are a hell of a lot of fun to watch. If there is any justice on this earth, I will have the pleasure of rooting against you in the Stanley Cup finals as you take on one of my beloved teams from the east— a team whose name I cannot mention directly because of deep, crazy superstition. 

Get it?

Holy crap, how good would that series be?

Anyone got any bright ideas?

If, like me, you are a Rangers fan, you’re well acquainted with the fact that things have not gone as planned this season. Kind of like how things did not go as planned on the Titanic. Or the Hindenburg. Or [insert your own favorite crash-and-burn metaphor here].

Anyway, since my own attempts at analyzing the situation so often turn into bouts of pouting, cursing the hockey gods from afar (they live in Canada, obviously), and shouting random obscenities at passers-by, I suggest you read Dave Lozo’s take on the whole mess over at NHL.com. Lozo provides a pretty comprehensive look at the who, what, when, where, and why of the Rangers breakdown— hint: the names Nash, Tortorella, Richards, Gaborik, Prust, Dubinsky, and Anisimov come up more than once.

I won’t lie, it kind of stings to read such a thorough dissection of the team’s woes, but the first step towards recovery is admitting you have a problem, right?