December 30, 2008 one day I'll transcribe the journal entry |
December 30, 2013: Same outcome as Saturday against Edmonton, but a
vastly different game. The Canucks are far better without the puck than the
Oilers are; the Flyers had to work for this win. And I mean work. They
scored first, but Vancouver got in front of them in the second period. Again,
it was a 2-2 tie going into the third (kinda makes the first two-thirds of a
game irrelevant, really), where that
darned Daniel Sedin got credit for a rebound that went in off Luke Schenn.
Luke-frikking-Schenn. Now I know why Dad thought so little of him as a Maple
Leaf. He and Braydon Coburn are more help to the opposition than they are to
the Flyers, for crying out sideways. Jannik Hansen had scored Vancouver's go-ahead in the second, and Giroux had tied it up in the last minute of the period, but after Sedin's goal with three minutes left in regulation, I feared for my team’s chances. Neither was I appeased by having Hansen on my pool team. I got a
point from him, but augh! At what cost?
I think it was around $15.00, actually. After the
third Vancouver goal, I started racking up serious penalty dollars for the swear
jar. Three minutes left against a gang of defensive masters? This is when the
Canucks clamp down on their lead and clog up the neutral zone. All night I
watched them hound whichever Flyer had the puck, no one in orange could swing
his stick without hitting someone in blue … and getting a penalty for it,
%^$#*. Once again, the Flyers are the most penalized team in the league. Talk
about the sins of the fathers. The legacy of the Broad Street Bullies has
become guilt by association. I watched a bunch of minor infractions on both sides
occur within a single play, and who did the refs finally nab? Granted, the
Canucks get their fair share of chintzy calls (because they’re whiners, snicker
snort), but my father has a point about coincidental tripping/diving penalties.
Either a guy is tripped or he’s not. If he is, call the trip. If he dives, call
the dive. It should make no damned difference if he flails on his way down, if
he’s tripped, he’s going down, ^&%$#*! But Mark Streit got nailed
for being tripped simply because he’s a Flyer. &*^%$.
Whoops. Lost my cool there. I digress. Three minutes
left and Schenn the Elder accidentally redirects one past Steve Mason – who was
utterly faaaaaaaaaabulous, by the way; he kept the Flyers in it while Vancouver
peppered him with 42 shots. I take back my comment about inconsistency.
MY BP is hovering near the blackout level as the clock
winds down. The final minute is called. The Flyers pull their goalie. There’s
an insane scramble in the Canucks’ zone, the puck squirts sideways and lands on
the stick of Schenn the Younger – Luke’s little brother, Brayden – who promptly
pops it past Eddie Lack. Philadelphia has tied the game! The orange-clad go
wild, my peripheral vision dims, and the game goes to overtime.
No joy there, though it was a bit more exciting than
the Saturday night OT. Vancouver wanted to finish before the shootout and
Philly had to play along. To no avail, however. Neither team scored, so to the
shootout we go.
Mike Santorini vs. Steve Mason. Mason makes the save.
Yay!
Vincent Lecavalier vs. Eddie Lack. Vinnie scores. Yay!!
Ryan Kesler vs. Steve Mason. Mason doesn’t have to
make the save; Kes fakes a shot then loses the puck before he can launch it.
Phew.
Claude Giroux vs. Eddie Lack. Lack makes the save.
*$&%^.
Daniel Sedin vs. Steve Mason. Yikes. But Mason stays
with the play … and Philadelphia wins in the shootout!!!!!!
Celebration ensues, during which I collapse in my
chair and realize that I haven’t taken a full breath (except to swear) since
the puck dropped in OT. I’ve watched three Philadelphia games in a week. That’s
more than I often see in a season. They won all three, by brute force and dumb
luck, but they seem to have gained some momentum heading in the second half of
the season. They’re in Calgary tonight then off to Colorado on the 2nd, so I likely won’t see them again
for a while. It’s kind of a relief, actually. My heart can’t take much more
live action.
Neither can my wallet. After last night, I’ll have to
ask if Ter can break a twenty.
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