
Feeling duped
As a fan of the game with a certain level of neutrality , I equate the Caps performance last night to Lucy, pulling the football away from Charlie Brown – Chuck being a symbol of a fan’s hope for a great conclusion to a great series. We ended up flat on our asses, looking around wondering what the hell happened.
Things started out well enough, with both teams coming out strong for a change. Ovechkin was robbed of a goal by a spectacular glove save by Marc-André Fleury off a breakaway with the game still scoreless. From that point on, though, the game was a complete dud if you were a neutral or a Caps fan. As most of you are surely already aware, the game ended in a complete rout, 6-2 to the Pens.
Good on the Penguins for showing up, but isn’t that the minimum of what’s expected in a Game 7? What in the world happened to the Caps? In retrospect, the series would have been done a service if the Pens had scored in overtime of Game 6. We would have been left wanting more. As it stands, we are left with a sense of being short-changed. I had an epiphany when the score was 4-0: you can’t call something the Game of the Year before the game is actually played. Notch that one up to experience.
Loved the irrelevant Bob Cole commenting after the Penguins took a 4-0 lead “…and that goal silences the crowd”. No Bob, if you had been paying attention, you would have noticed that happening after the second goal. Or Greg Millen after the Caps scored a goal, late in the second period, to make the score 5-1: “Now as a Caps fan you can begin thinking they might be able to mount something here. A five goal lead is impossible to overcome, but a 4 goal lead is within grasp”. But two seconds ago it was a 5 goal lead! Wasn’t it impossible two seconds ago? Still, Greg Millen is an upgrade over Harry Neale and Glenn Healy. Sad, but true.
I stayed with the game until the end because I was interested in seeing the Crosby/Ovechkin handshake. Nothing dramatic happened, nor was I expecting it: just a courteous handshake and a few words exchanged. Had I been Ovechkin, I would have said: “That was fun, Syd. I hope we can do this every year for a long time”. At least, that’s what I hope for as a fan, minus the anticlimactic ending.













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