Listened To The Pens Game On The Radio, Ate Quinoa Like A Hipster
My place has basic cable, or whatever package is below the one that doesn't have sports, but has FX, USA and CNN. I have that one. Bob Errey quips hardly ever get to dance in my ear drums (and yes, I'm extremely hurt by that).
So my plan was to zip on out of work after 7:00 pm, head down to Lot 17, in Bloomfield, order myself an appetizer of sweet potato fries and drink an I.C. Light (so it's bottle label could shamelessly remind me that Nutting doesn't like to spend money) while being comfortably front and center for the banner lifting.
I left work at 7:30, biked like a roided-out Floyd Landis back to my place (or more like Kermit The Frog In The Muppet Movie) to fling the peanut butter, the quinoa and the almond milk into the living room (go on, judge my "Eat Pray Love"-esque choices), and boogied on down to Lot 17 to find no seats without asses. Oh, there was a table, but if you think I was going to sit at a corner four top by myself like that bugged-eyed 40-something in Army fatigues used to do at the Loomis back in college, then you'd be way off the mark, madam or sir.
Beerless and sweet potato fry-less, I left Loft 17 a broken man wandering back to my place like a stray dog. I was hungry and resigned to the fact that the only other item I'd eat at this time tonight was the quinoa and peanut butter. Stir fry it is. I attempted Armand's even considering that their place was no longer "famous" or "fish sandwich", but they were lined up with middle-aged smokers, waiting for his turn to die (like that Goo Goo Dolls song).
Up at my place, I did up a healthy stack of dishes before I fired up the stove for the quinoa and the cauliflower that I was going to toss in like a coward. (could I be making any lesser of a hockey meal than this?) I have the Penguins app on my phone so Mike Lange and Borque were hooking me up with the deets. Deets I hated, such as Hornqvist being inactive (who I clearly saw suited up during the banner raising) and deets I loved, like Justin Schultz scoring the first goal of the season. It was around this time I received a text from my buddy Mike. Last time I saw Mike was at Stinky's Pub after KSWA Wrestling, but tonight we were in separate worlds as I was about as close to a television as he was to this man:
Son of bitch. I'm with quinoa and a draining dish rack and he's with Sid and Stan. Doesn't help that I had no way to see this with my own two peepers. Either way, the Blues tied it up, took the lead, Party Maatta scores first, Crosby makes goal three and Sheary ties the bastard up, leading us into the OT. Pietroangelo (great last name, wrong team) took care of business rather quickly and closed the door on Game 1. No big deal, nine total goals is a lot, but hey our Pens looked nice, they still got somma that slice in that ice.
I listen to Lange & Borque here and there, but wow, the two have a very good dynamic. The ol' 29er is quick on the wit and Lange as always is top-notch whether he's calling the game or yucking it up with Phil. Might start doing the radio listen a little bit more.
Anything beats not hearing Pierre McGuire. Even in a span of two months I totally forgot about that man.
See ya tomorrow, Chicago.