Aftermath.

Today pretty much sucks. Hard. And I hate it. Obviously, I'm upset about the loss, about not making it to the conference finals, about it all. But what pains me the most is the fact that I'll never go to the Civic Arena again. Lady Mellon's last ride has ended.

And it breaks my fucking heart.

I have loved the Penguins and the Arena my whole life. The team and the Arena are iconic, timeless, and beautiful. They mean more to this damn city than I think any of us can ever begin to say. When the Pens almost moved to Kansas City, I was inconsolable. Pittsburgh without the Penguins? I couldn't begin to fathom it. Having to imagine Pittsburgh without Lady Mellon is just as bad a thought. Mario can't save us from that reality, though.

I hoped we would be able to give her a proper sendoff. The last game went nothing like I had in mind. How ironic...or fitting, that we lost our first game ever in the Arena to the Habs, and also lost our last to the same fucking team.

2010 was not our year. It was not destiny that the Cup would come to the team that deserves it most. I'll keep this short.

It's been a hell of a season, kids. To anyone out there who reads this blog, thank you. Thank you for putting up with our subpar writing, sporadic posting, lame photoshops, all of it. You crazy bastards are what makes this fun to do. Ain't nothing like being a hockey blogger.

On this day, the city of Pittsburgh raises its collective glass to you, noble Lady. We all love you.

Forever a Pens Broad. See you all in October.

-Kat

Pens lose.

Dear Les Habitants:

You tied a series, you didn't win the Stanley Cup. The exorbitant douchebaggery can end at any time now. Thank you.

Sincerely yours,

The world at large.

In other news, yes, we lost last night and yes, it sucked very hard and I was very mad. But, when I woke up this morning, I realized something:

We were tied with Ottawa at one point, and we still kicked their ass.

So to Pens Nation, I say unto you: Calmeth thee the fuck down. We got this.

Bandwagoners and bridge-jumpers committed mass suicide last night, blaming the loss on everyone from Fleury to Geno to Sid to Disco to the Tattoo Guy from the Sports Illustrated article. We lost a game, it isn't the end of the world, the Habs didn't go home with the Cup (although the smarmfest outside of Centre Bell would have indicated otherwise to their fans). They won on a lucky goal, plain and simple. And this is the point where we need to step back, take a deep breath, and thank the Hockey Gods Above for RoboStaal. This is why it's a best of seven series, kids. Teams win, teams lose, and let's face it: we can't win every game. But in the end, we're gonna crush skulls, score goals, and ruin Montreal's dream of winning the Cup for the first time since the Eisenhower administration.

Pens in 6. I'm betting my left titty on it.