A Little Pimp Swagger

So I'm a little late to the H2H party.....well I guess more than a little late, I'm beyond fashionably late with my recap. Perhaps you could even say I'm Tardy for the Party. With that being said, there's probably not much more I could add that hasn't already been written by much more talented people. It was an awesome event perfectly planned by some really great people. My little sister came to H2H with me. She is currently finishing up her student teaching and preparing to enter that bitch that is the real world. When she mentioned to her students that she was going to a gathering to meet some people from the Internet, those sweet little kids immediately told her to be careful. Apparently to them, anyone on the Internet is a serial killer or dog raper. But luckily everyone who attended turned out to be just as cool as I suspected. The only possible folks in danger were perhaps Helm (Herm managed to avoid staring at his ass despite the fact that every male blogger seemed to check out Herms derriere) and maybe Bertuzzi. I half suspected to see a news clip of Petrella popping out in the lockerroom in his pink shirtuzzi and grabbing onto his idol Todd's leg like a dog in heat. But alas everyone was extreme awesome and dare I say well behaved.

It was a great time. Fun to put faces with names. I'm pretty sure no one looked like what I expected, and since I lack social decorum, I had no problem walking around and grabbing name tags to find out who you were. I mean seriously, who knew that Chollis had a beard that would rival Zetterbergs, or that Matt Saler had some intensely awesome side burns? And no Penguins fans, despite what you think VooX doesn't always have to carry around his Sidney Crosby voodoo doll.

Great time and I cannot wait for next year.

Now on to last nights game.

What the hell was that? I'll admit, I walked over to my couch with a little swagger, fully expecting this Red Wings team to win. Sure the Oilers have beat the Wings 3 other times this year and always managed to score first. And yes, yes I'm aware that there was that whole unfortunate 6- something game earlier this season. But I had a level of confidence I haven't experienced earlier this season. And it felt good.

So while sitting there watching the game at the ungodly early hour of 4:30 (fuck you day lights savings time) the Wings came out and looked poised and controlled. I relaxed a bit, leaned back in my seat, and my dog wasn't even pacing around the room nervously. She even had a little bit of a pimp walk going on.

And Lilja or Flippula, or someone scored to give the Wings a 1-0 lead. Now as I said before, the Wings have not scored first against the Oilers all season. To me it was an omen. A sign. And also incredibly entertaining to watch Lilja search his jersey for a puck mark in hopes that the goal was his.

Soon after, Kronwall scores. I'm pretty sure that Swedish bastard fancies himself some sort of forward now. First his game winning shoot out goal, then this. Fantastic. After some bumps following the Olympic break, Kronwall has once again resumed his sound defensive play and apparently his offensive swagger. (Damn, I'm noticing a bit of a theme here)

Following Kronwalls goal, my favorite Miller (as long as it's not the Olympics.) Scores giving the Wings a 3-0 lead. Miller has played really well the last few games and you could tell he was due.

On a side note, I love Jimmy Johns. I remember MANY 3am trips to grab one of those delicious subs that taste even better when you're drunk. But their new commercials really piss me off. As a marketing and advertising major they make me want to drill a pencil through my eye. Just when you think you've seen the worst one, a new one comes out.

Anywho, at this point in the game the Wings are still dominating. Franzen and Zetterberg took turns missing open nets while Bertuzzi was spinning around like it was the god damn ice capades and Will Ferrell was his new ice dance partner. Seriously, at points in the night all he was missing was that pink shirtuzzi and a pair of leopard print tights....yes please visualize that for a moment.

While the Oilers were still distracted by the beauty and grace that is Todd Bertuzzi, Franzen scored. And let me just say, I love his celebrations. Love them. He skates around like "what, I'm fucking Johan Franzen. This is no big deal." All the while smiling and attempting to make all his teeth fit in his mouth. Awesome. Most hockey players look like, well they look like Todd Bertuzzi, but not the Mule. He has more teeth and he or baby Jesus know what to do with.

Soon after, the Oilers score on the PP. Let me explain. They score 4 seconds into the powerplay. This is the Wings PK that had killed 63 of the last 67 penalties, and then that happened. I had a weird feeling it was only going to get worse before it go better. That swagger, well it was slipping away faster than Colin Campbells dignity.

To make matters worse, Hillary Duff's, spankin new fiance decided to score and put the Oilers within two. I always hated Lizzie McGuire. Bitch.

At this point the Wings had stopped skating. Just as I did, they probably felt they won the game. It was scary, but they almost looked like the Wings of yesteryear. They were dominating, became bored, sat back, and then had to fight to win. Ummm please no more of that mmmmmkaaay.

On another side note, anyone think the Wings have screwed up poor Derek Meech? Anyone, anyone? He's actually looked half way decent in the forward position. Dare I say he may even feel pretty comfortable in that spot?

Moving on, late in the third, Howard makes a big stop, but lack of defensive coverage and his inability to cover the ENTIRE net at once leads to the Oilers 4th goal. Tied game bitches. I was nervous, I wanted those 2 points badly.

But at least the Wings seemed to want those points as well. They once again started skating and began dominating play. Which leads to the goal that may not have been. Stuart, yes the defensemen Brad Stuart tips the puck in. Now the question is, was it a high stick or not. I was distracted at this point by an unexpected visitor, but when I got back to the TV, there was a debate taking place between Ken, Murph, and Mickey. Murph and Ken asked Mickey to jump onto their drunken bandwagon and agree that it was a good goal. Mickey strangely enough wasn't so sure. We were forced to watch over and over again a million different views just hoping it would count.

And guess what boys and girls it did. Wings win 5-4. Now please don't do that shit to me again. This season has forced me to age 60 years and I now have the heart of a 85 year old drinker...I can't take much more.

Be sure to check out THIS today. Well words quite frankly can't describe it.

Oh and THIS is probably making Pinky cry in his apple jacks. Sorry.