Hockey, at its core, is one gigantic hermaphroditic beast, and you never know what end you'll wind up with.
Before you even sat down, the Habs went up 1-0. Maybe the weakest shot Tom Pyatt's ever had, just a seeing eye single that weaves through Flower. After that goal, everything changes. The Pens start playing as if it were an elimination game. Talbot flies into the zone and Superstars' one right in Halak's five-hole.
About 4 seconds later, Kunitz sashays a power play goal past Halak, 2-1. Get him on next year's Dancing with the Stars.
The breakneck pace continues. You begin to think that the Pens may be up 10-1 at the end of the first. But every scoring chance is shut down. The Pens continue to dominate through the second, but again, nothing doing. 2-1 going into the third.
For the first 5 minutes of the third, the Pens do their impression of Thursday's stock market. Some dick channels Adam Hall and scores from behind the net. You take a drink, and then a puck caroms off of Letang's skate past Fleury. The hermaphroditic beast turns on us.
The rest of the game = crap.
When Malkin was sprung on the breakaway with four minutes left, was I the only one thinking "Oh no, anybody but Malkin."
PERSPECTIVE: It's not the end of the world. In fact, for a veteran Stanley Cup Champion team, it may have been the best thing that could have happened. The Pens didn't win Game 4, face it. Now they're angry and coming home. Montreal does not seem concerned. They probably should be.
Another post coming soon.