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"Professor, without knowing precisely what the danger is, would you say it's time for our viewers to crack each other's heads open and feast upon the goo inside?" "Yes. Yes I would Kent."
I don't know about The Kommissar, but I'm a sucker for a good, old fashioned panic. Satanic ritual abuse? Oh, hells yes. Rainbow parties? If I had a daughter, you can damn well bet she'd be locked in the basement. Witchcraft? Burn 'em. Communists? Smoke 'em out from under the bed, then burn 'em. Penis panic? Um...moving on.
In all of its illustrious history, the NHL has cancelled the Stanley Cup Final only twice. Most recently, of course, was in 2005 due to the lockout (and for the last time, Tampa, it doesn't mean the Lightning went back-to-back. Please stop printing the t-shirts).
The first cancellation came about as a result of the Great Spanish Flu Pandemic of 1918, and with good reason. Cramming thousands of people into one's poorly ventilated arena to watch a hockey game only to have 5% of them die by morning tended to wreak havoc on one's concession sales, to say nothing of the season ticket renewals.
This time it's the pigs. So why, you may ask, despite what our rational, level headed and above all, non sensationalistic media outlets tell me, am I bothering with a second round preview in light of the obvious fact that WE'RE ALL GOING TO FUCKING DIE?!?!?
Three words: Half. Priced. Bacon
(1) Boston Bruins (Cornelius Hardenberg) vs. (6) Carolina Hurricanes (Canes Country): My goodness, but that was exciting, wasn't it? Two goals in the last minute and a half of game seven to slay the Devils and spare a grateful nation the specter of even more empty seats in Newark. It would be very easy to get behind this plucky bunch of Carolinians, the only real Cinderella story left, and root them on to the Final. Easy, and very very wrong. You'll know what I mean once you see Zdeno Chara flossing with Eric Staal. Predictions: A Cam Ward spontaneous combustion and Bruins in 5.
(2) Washington Capitals (Capitals Kremlin) vs. (4) Pittsburgh Penguins (PensBurgh): That noise you heard at approximately 9:56pm Tuesday evening was the sound of Gary Bettman's pants exploding. The Canes' crazy, stupid comeback set up his wildest wet dream...Alexander The Great mano-a-mano with Sid The Puling Little Bitch Kid. That all consuming side show aside, this one comes down to the two head cases between the pipes. Can Var-LA-mov channel his inner Ken Dryden and keep his head about him? Will MAF manage to go one more round before dissolving into his customary puddle of goo? My money is on the former. Predictions: a slew of 7-6 games and Caps in 7.
(2) Detroit Red Wings (Abel to Yzerman) vs. (8) Anaheim Ducks (Girl with a Puck): We've already discussed the great service Anaheim rendered the Sens. But what of Detroit? Flicking aside a just-happy-to-be-here Blue Jackets team does not a yard stick make. And one look at the Ducks' defence tells you these are not the Blue Jackets. The only thing I know for sure? By the end of this thing, both teams will be patching their forwards together with duct tape and binder twine. Predictions: Mutually assured destruction and Wings in 7.
(3) Vancouver Canucks (Nucks Misconduct) vs. (4) Chicago Blackhawks (The Fifth Feather): Following in the footsteps of the Flames (2004), Oilers (2006), Sens (2007) and Habs (2008-ish), the Canuckleheads now inherit that most burdensome of mantles, that of CANADA'S TEAM! In honour of the occasion, Don Cherry will have a suit made entirely of beached orcas and start sleeping in Mats Sundin's equipment bag. While that may sound like enough, the Nucks prevail only if a) Roberto's audition for the 2010 Olympic team stays on track and b) Vancouver's forecheck pummels Brian Campbell into paste. Predictions: 10:30pm starts means my boss is really going to hate my zombified ass and Vancouver in 6.
Enjoy the games everybody. Now get out there and have yourself a ham sandwich.
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