Not getting enough of the bandwagon red pom-pom Caps squad, I had to take a stroll through Chinatown this afternoon, even though I knew I'd be watching the game at the Pour House. It's not that I needed to work up any more enmity for the dicksmack Caps fanbase; the new braying DTC-esque arrivals to hockey, all making sure to rawk the red, were hardly in short order the last few months. It's just that, knowing the way the Pens outplayed the Caps thoroughout the majority of the series, the hunch was that it would be the last I'd see of them until they went back to their true burgendy and gold love in the fall. Living around the city for a large part of my life, I get it. The Redskins are the, really, the only game in town, will be the only ones with anything approaching a region-wide allegiance. When you're 17 years without a title from your most popular, or any, team you're willing to glom onto anything that remotely has the faint aroma of winning. And that's what most of them did. It helps that the Caps were ready with any number of simpleminded marketing slogans ("Rock the Red," "Unleash the Fury!") any laysportviewer can appreciate.
'Twas not to be. The Caps, with their smug twatwaffle owner who goes to any length to block road fans from overruning the home arena, the incessant Crosby bashers, their fans who still need to learn the basics of the game, their showboating dickhead MVP, are all dispatched. A great series up until the end. I didn't think any hockey team would be as obnoxious as the Flyers but the Caps are it. Congrats Caps, now join the Flyers in offseason limbo.
Opponent for conference final series to be determined tomorrow. It's fated to be the 'Canes just so there can be a tizzy about Tomlin at Pens games and Cowher playing the siren in Carolina. Or maybe it's just Boston and the thrill of denying the Massholes another title will suffice. Either way, the Pens are moving on.