Sweet Swedish retribution

The St. Louis game put us in a position where, for the first time either of us could remember, so long as no Red Wings left the ice dead or injured, or as long as they scored a single goal (that counted), we would be satisfied.

The realization that this was the point to which the season had sunken our spirits sort of made me want to throw up a little in my mouth.

Watching Todd Bertuzzi skate out on the ice to take the shootout made me want to throw up a lot in my mouth, and the awful sound of the puck hitting the post that I 100% expected to hear still sort of haunts my nightmares (and I actually like Todd Bertuzzi, so I don't want to imagine how horrible that moment must have been for the haters) even though he actually got the puck in the back of the net and I danced around the living room in happiness.

The Wings are still gunning for a home ice being-shut-out record of like ten thousand minutes though.

I'd post something relevant about tonight's game against the Dallas Stars, but all I have is a rant about how I want the Eurotwins back on a line together and a picture of Marty Turco shirtless. I'll post either upon sufficient request.

But if there's sufficient request for naked Turco, I might have to retire from blogging forever.