Holy dear sweet Jimmy Howard

Well. That was pretty much a complete 180 from every worry I was developing ulcers from.

I mean, the Columbus game was just ridiculous on a level I don't think can be explained. When my team wins by more than five goals, I don't really have much to say except "awesome". Awesome.

And as much as you never want to see your starting goaltender sick at home, Howard's play in last night's game against Vancouver quelled dozens and dozens of worries I was starting to have about his development (and gave me a few new ones to mull over concerning rebound control, but... that's for later). I can only hope that this stretch of games is the momentum change in the season and that the Wings keep picking up steam.

At the same time, I'm not sure I want to get my hopes up for the future, if only because it still seems as though the Wings are unable to deliver any awesomeness until I'm sobbing into my hands with the fear of imminent torture thinking about the next game.

I think this is the kind of cycle of joy and agony that's supposed to be indicative of an abusive relationship. Hockey is a crappy boyfriend.