It’s my fault. I went on and on to anybody that would listen about the greatness of our penalty kill. Our penalty kill rocks! Blah, blah, blah! Power plays will want to refuse the penalty, we’re so good!
Then we land in Phoenix and give up three power play goals. Phoenix!
Wait. You know whose fault I think it is? Whoever told the players that the penalty kill was so great. And that certainly wasn’t me. I saw an interview with Jeff Halpern where some anonymous season-ruiner with a microphone told him that they have almost as many short-handed goals as they have power play goals against. “Whoa. Really?” Halpern said. You know, it’s better that they don’t know that stuff. That’s why they avoid finding it out. Even they know that they shouldn’t know.
On a brighter note, last night, little Stephane Robidas got his first goal in 92 games. You would have thought it was his first one ever, the way the boys celebrated. So cute! I love that guy.
I was so happy for little Robi. It’s about time – he gets kicked around and hit all the time, his face is two-dimensional, but he’s like the nicest guy ever, and he never gets a chance to shine. GO ROBI.
Someday, when I get around to doing my planned Why I Love [Player's Name Here] series, I’ll tell my favorite Robi story that proves he really is the nicest guy ever.