Or how about how you feel after breaking a long fast, taking that first bite into a delicious meal?
Or when you've been really jonesing for some blow, and you just shove your face right in a pile of sweet columbian bam-bam?
- Wings 4.
- Ducks 0.
- Howard took the ice to make one statement: "What the fuck is a sophomore slump?"
- Currently, the Wings are on pace for a record breaking 164 point season.
- Ken Kal is clairvoyant. Dude publicly predicted Modano's home opener goal. And it came on his first shot in the Winged Wheel. Not too shabby.
- Mickey says Mule's gonna pot 50.
- Speaking of Mickey, he's in peak mid-season form. "Well a how-do-ya-do for Christmas too!" Sweet Bear Jesus, I missed that man.
- And Datsyuk...
Holy shit, Datsyuk.
Look at this silly bitch smile. Not pictured: me pissing myself.
Gordie. Howe. Hattrick.
But really? The best part of last night? Taking down the fucking Ducks. You know, somehow they're a team that allows me to forget how much I hate them in between match ups. I'm not really sure exactly how. Perhaps its because in the last couple of seasons, they haven't bothered to win anything. That usually takes the sting out of most rivalries.
But really? Fuck the Ducks. Right in their shiny purple Disney asses. Hard.
They showed their true colors last night. No, not the disgusting teal and yellow inspired by a shitty children's movie. I'm talking about the douchebag variety. As soon as things started going downhill for them (puck drop), they decided it was time to goon it up. After every delayed penalty, without fail, the entire roster of shitty human beings would start their little sideshow. Their "captain" spent the whole night trying to lure Homer into a fight. They displayed zero self control, zero discipline, and zero class.
I'm not surprised.
That's just the way this Ducks team is. It's the way they are, and the way they will be. And, you know, that's just fine. Because every time we face this gang of goons, we get to repeat last night. Plenty of time on the Belle Tire Power Play. Plenty of time ignoring their shenanigans, and focusing on lighting the lamp. Plenty of time winning.
So that was fun. But now the fun is over, and it's time to ruin a little ceremony. A ceremony that comes to Chicago only once every 50 years. A ceremony that isn't going to happen again any time soon. As the Hawks raise their pathetic fourth banner in 84 years, the Wings will chuckle. Our vets will look to the rafters at the United Center, see all four banners, and then laugh at the idea that they have as many rings as Red Wings as the Hawks franchise has in history. Then the puck will drop.
Time to spoil a party for some Bandwagoners.
Lets. Go. Wings.