A few impressions:

—The Wings came out absolutely flying. I started watching this game last night around 2330 and it seemed to me then that everything was faster. Every pass was crisp, all of it. They just looked good. Then I realized that could easily be the alcohol, so I went to bed and watched it again this morning. Nope. A damn good first period.

—And Paul offered up a gift certificate, I see. Interesting. My choice, eh? What a dilemma.

—Osgood. Well, well. Look who wants his job back.

Dave Dye

“When you’ve had the start Ozzie had this year, he’s no dummy,” Babcock said. “He knows he’s got to get rolling here. He played like he did last year. We need him on top of his game.”

As for his performance, Osgood said: “I took plenty of time off to make sure I was ready. It was a good break for me mentally and physically. I kind of felt like I was in the playoffs again.”

Osgood was great. And I don’t think any of us were surprised. This was a mental game played by the master of mentaliciousness, our Uncle Mike. I have no doubt that physically, Osgood was ready for a long time now. He knew it. Babcock knew it. The Downriver Puck Bunnies (touchy term here now, eh?) knew it. His teammates knew it.

You don’t think Chris Osgood, considering all he’s meant to this organ-I-zation, deserved a start in Chicago on Thursday. Hell, Chelios got to play. Nope. Riding pine. Risky in that weather, on that ice, etc, etc. I know. Got it. But more than that, it was the last little reminder from Uncle Mike that all had damn well better be good and solved.

And if last night was any indication, there’s a chance of that. He looked confident. The two goals scored (not three..I know…crazy) were tough ones. Kronwall, and he’s a whole different subject, got the assist on the second one. Other than that, he was solid, solid.

And he’ll probably get the BJ on Tuesday. As he should.

So, as I said already. I DVR’d the game. I have no idea how these things work. I just press record when the game’s supposed to start and go about my business. Fire and forget. Well. I guess there’s some science involved with DVR’ing a sporting event. And that fact sunk in when I fast forwarded through a commercial late in the third and saw that there were only 9 minutes left in my recording, with seven minutes left on the clock.

With one minute left in OT there were 92 seconds left on the recording.

The recording ended with 7 seconds left in OT. And that just sucks.

So I flipped it to the NHL Network, and waited for the highlights. Lo and behold there’s good ol’ drunk ass Larry. And the Wings are next. I like the NHL Network. But man, those highlights take a long frigging time to reach any sort of conclusion don’t they? Here’s what I watched, not knowing who the hell won this game.

All while I was still trying to figure out who would get the gift certificate the Emperor offered up so many hours ago. Such a tough decision. So. Much. Stress.

Holy. That move from Datsyuk is just obscene.

And Osgood gets a much deserved W.

—Wonder if Hossa’s getting frustrated? Good. I hope he’s pissed. I think he’s a little snake bit, not playing poorly.

—Zetterberg was unbelievable. He is all over the place. I don’t care if he never scores another goal. I could care less if he ever makes another all star team. We’ve got the best player in the NHL and he’s going to sign for relatively cheap. And soon.

—Just finished reading over the comments. I honestly believe the 19 is getting somehow funnier. There is a theme there that just keeps coming back. Stress mixed with alcohol with innuendo with immaturity. All we need is Baroque. Where. The. Hell. Is. She?

Wow. I’m tired. Tuckered out. Up late. Up early. So many domestic responsibilities await me today.

Oh. Alright. Happy Anniversary Kate. The gift certificate is, of course, yours. I had no choice, as I rarely do around here. The 19 have spoken. Email me and we’ll do the deal.