Sir Winston Churchill once defined success as "the ability to go from one failure to another with no loss of enthusiasm".

I don't know about you, but I'm feeling rather less successful of late.

Let's pick over the carcass, shall we?

The Dizzying High That Sucked Slightly Less Than Everything Else:

Doing a thing well is often a waste of time. -- Robert Byrne: Hands up, everyone who would have believed me had I told you, before the game, that Giggles had a hat trick in him.  Hmmm...not many.  Okay, try this one.  Hands up, everyone who would have believed me had I told you, before the game, that not only would Giggles score a hat trick, but that we would also lose the game.  Yep, that one's damn near unanimous.  You have learned well, paduans.

The Terrifying, Baffling, Excrutiating, Shit Eating Lows:

He attacked everything in life with a mix of extraordinary genius and naive incompetence, and it was often difficult to tell which was which. -- Douglas Adams: I know conventional wisdom dictates patience, and lots of it, when dealing with a raw if (supposedly) talented rookie.  I know that.  I makes perfect sense.  But holy shitfuck, waiting for Erik Karlsson to develop even the barest minimum of defensive competence is excruciating, as in scoop-out-your-eyeballs-with-a-mellon-baller kind of painful.  I may not survive the experience.

Ninety-nine percent of all failures come from people who have the habit of making excuses. -- George Washington Carver: Let's go to audiotape, Lou!

“They had a few weird bounces. I felt okay,” said Leclaire. “It wasn’t my best game, but I don’t think I was that bad either." -- Ottawa Sun

Um, here's a news flash for you Snoop. Yeah, you were.  And just for shits and giggles, rather than slam blockers around or mutter under your breath when you get pulled, you might try somethng more constructive.  Like, say, figuring out why every twelve-year old house leaguer knows to go high glove on your useless ass.

Laziness is nothing more than the habit of resting before you get tired. -- Jules Renard: Anyone with any information on the whereabouts of Alex Kovalev, please contact this writer immediately.  I have a perfectly good sack of doorknobs just sitting here, unused.  And remember, a knob is a terrible thing to waste.  I think Nancy Reagan said that.

Pithy Observations of Questionable Importance:

Dear Cialis, I think it might be time for a new commercial.  While the fact that an airplane mechanic can steer a scaffold all the way back to his wife using nothing but his penis is indeed impressive, it's been running a little too long.  I'm beginning to feel a tad...inadequate.

Was I the only one fervently wishing that the Dallas PA guy would end each period by intoning "And THAT's the way it is."?  I was?  Okay then.  Damn kids...

The Creamy Middle:

For two periods yesterday, I was positive they had finally turned the corner.  Sure, the game was tied, but the passes were better, the forecheck was working and the shots were coming from everywhere (SEE?!?!  How hard was that??).   Then Erik The Midget pees his pants after a peek over his shoulder reveals a looming Steve Ott, Snoopy shits the bed and the wheels fall off.  Now I'm cold, hungry and not sure of anything anymore.  And there are wolves after me.

Up Next:

Tomorrow night, against the Habs, on the road (7:30pm, SportsNet East or RDS for the poutine and Pepsi crowd).  Yay!  A chance to officially fall to 7th, and make a first round sweep against Pittsburgh all but certain!  That'll be fun, right??

Behind Enemy Lines:

There is but one.  Okay, maybe two.  Last one for the season, gentlemen.  I demand some EPIC photoshops to mark the occasion.

Go Sens?

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