Apparently, the fans along the prairie were none too happy with The Favorites getting plowed last night. They booed and made angry faces. That made Pinky upset.
The display I saw from Wild fans tonight was far more disgusting than the way the team played. Tonight is the first time I have ever been truly ashamed to be associated with this fan base.
Editor:Hockey Wilderness Now with more Twitterness: @BReynoldsMN
Master of unsustainable passive regression, sanctimonious back biter, unnecessarily verbose hubristic misanthrope, and the whiny idiot homer at that site you've never heard of but comment about all the time.
by BReynolds on Apr 26, 2013 | 9:48 PM reply
Unfortunate, how he feels, so close to the end of his sterling blogging career. Long memories here, Richard. Long memories.
Primis has been hitting this for a few days now and he's nailing it. Walnut Grove missing the playoffs, the Ingalls sisters sad and weepy, questioning, Leipold angry beyond words...yes please.
Table that. Push it aside for now. Just get in. Get in and the possibilities widen. Get in and face Chicago and the odds are steep. We get that. But I'll take steep over golf any day. Get in and face Anaheim?
Interesting.
I can't even describe the situation I'll find myself in tonite. I'll be at PETCO Park with a dozen 11 year old softball players. My DVR will be humming. Your comments will hit my phone at lightning speed and I'll ignore every one. In fact, I may be device-less to avoid the temptation. I'll be avoiding eye contact with any stadium scoreboard in the event NHL scores show up anywhere (highly doubtful).
I'll get home around 9pm PST. By that time every one of you will know where we stand. In/out. Happy/sad. Laughing at Mary and Laura or resignedly admitting that asking Denver to do this was a fool's hope. If wishes were horses, the Dive would still suck ass.
And unless technology foils me and I find out all the news, I'll be watching hockey as you're hitting the racks. By tomorrow morning we'll be even. But any way you slice it: stress of the absolute highest order.
JFC. RSV. LGRW. FML. Nah, I dig my life. But this is going to be a crazy day for us all.
You have to think the Wings are looking forward to this. As much as we dread it, as much as we want to just start burning shit down? They probably dig it. I reallly Believe Babcock when he says this has been fun for him, watching the kids develop, mixing lineups, challenging himself.
Well, if it's that much fun make it a blowout. Have you considered how disgusting it would be if the Wings were down by 1 (or god, please god, no) 2 with 2 minutes left and everybody else is winning or has won? I've never ingested bath salts before and I really don't even know what they look like (because of my gender), but that might be the time and place. By myself, in my Wing jersey and Underoos, alone in my living room at midnite, the DVR paused with the Wings down with like 100 seconds left and me wondering what to do with what I believe are bath salts but could actually be crumpled Saltines or something.
I'm losing it. I know.
It's gonna be a rough day. A. Rough. Fuching. Day.
But we'll laugh about it tomorrow, when the Wings are in.
And we'll really laugh, and I mean with bellies and snorts, if those two candy asses are planning a trip to Mankado for supplies with Albert and Pa...instead of gearing up for the playoffs as every pharmacist guaranteed us they would.
But...the main thing: do it boys. Just. Get. In.
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