I've heard reports today saying that Lidstrom's going to be in the lineup for Game 1. Thank the Hockey Gods or sweet baby Jesus or even Zeus if you feel the need. Datsyuk sounds less likely, but a girl can dream, right? I was planning to write a better preview, but real life gets in the way sometimes and I don't have as much time as I would like. Therefore, I leave you with a few bullet points:
-I've been reading "opposition" blogs since the beginning of the playoffs, and I have to say that the Pens Blog is one of the most obnoxious things I've seen. Not even Anaheim's bloggers reached that level of idiocy and tastelessness. Chicago's blogs were actually enjoyable, BTW. I guess I just can't fathom a bunch of people finding a nearly fatal car accident funny, no matter who the victim was.
-I steadfastly refuse to make predictions. I have never done so before, and I never, ever will.
-A2Y is stressing me out with promises of great revelations; and Bingo Bango is dangling hints of inside sources and top secret injury info.
-Puck Daddy pointed out that so far in the playoffs, the Pens have eliminated, in chronological order, the Wings' Finals opponents from their previous three championships: Philly, Washington, and Carolina. The only vanquished opponent left? Sidney Crosby and his little posse. I'm not a big believer in coincidence, but this is the kind of thing that reinforces my belief in the Hockey Gods.
-While complaining about the pathetic state of the NHL, I asked myself why I had chosen to love what is quite possibly the worst-run professional sports league in the world. Then I realized that I hadn't chosen to love it. I was destined. I was selected by the Hockey Gods to fall in love with this sport, and if that means putting up with eight kinds of bull year after year, then so be it. Here I am, Gary Bettman, and I'm not going anywhere. At this point in my discourse my mom rolled down the car window and started yelling for help.
-I'll be spending the next 24 hours or so in various stages of meltdown as I alternate between pleading with the Hockey Gods (my firstborn child is still up for grabs, fellas...) and attempting to heal Pavel Datsyuk's foot using only my brainpower and positive vibes. We'll see how that goes.
I wish I had more, but I'm running out of time, and my brain isn't exactly functioning well at this point. This is ten times worse than last year was. The good news is that starting this blog has been incredibly cathartic, despite the fact that I'm pretty sure only one person reads it. There were games in the second round that would've killed me if not for having this venue in which to rant and rave.