I waited for something to come, but by now I'm thinking that I just lack the ability to say anything intelligent about last night's game. It's like my whole range of communication has been reduced to a series of grunting noises and expressive faces.
I guess it's for the best. That way if I met Chris Pronger in the street, he would understand what I had to say about him.
Of course, reading this didn't really help with my non-coherent English problem. I'd say something snarky about it, but when Scotty Bowman says he thinks Patrick Roy coaching the Avs is a good idea, my response can only be "What?"
"He's done a good job in junior," Scotty? Really? Didn't he order his son to go to the other end of the ice and beat down the other goalie? I... what?
Game 6 is tomorrow at the ungodly hour of 10pm again. I'd love to be able to make promises to everyone about how the team isn't going to go and lose two straight, but my predictions usually end badly, and anyway, the only promise this blog has been able to keep so far is that the posts would drop in quantity and quality once Grand Valley let out for the summer. I'll believe we've got this series in the bag when the Wings are smiling their way down the handshake line.