Stan "The Maven" Fischler, arguably hockey's most esteemed writer--and certainly one of its most prolific over a 50-year career--offers his uniquely crafted and slightly mischievous perspective:
Premature Extinction Of The Penguins
Stan Fischler for MAXHOCKEY.COM, June 8, 2009
You have to wonder why the Penguins will even bother to show up at their Igloo on Tuesday night.
Penguins can read, can't they?
Haven't they seen the papers?
Answer: Of course they can; and they have; and they know that a majority of the "experts" (that means hockey writers -- mostly Canadian -- who believe they invented The Game) have consigned Pittsburgh to the playoff scrapheap.
Granted, a 5-0 spanking in Detroit is not exactly Exhibit A in Chapter One of "How To Win The Stanley Cup" but, then again, that shutout is ancient history in terms of the here and now.
Dan Bylsma, the Penguins rookie coach who sometimes actually looks like an oversized penguin in man's clothing, is a keen student of his club's history. He believes that there's reason to BELIEVE, particularly if he can quickly find a good wall in The Igloo.
"We've played our best hockey when our backs were up against a wall," says Dangerous Dan, The Goony Bird Man. "I'm confident in our group that they will be focused and ready to go."
Now isn't that nice.
What else would you expect in Game Six of The Stanley Cup Finals, Sid Crosby un-focused and not quite ready to go?
But if Detroit is Hockeytown, Pittsburgh has become Clichetown where someone ought to invent a new set of cliches.
Another good invention -- for Penguins-use only -- would be an anti-Zetterberg serum that would free Sidney from Henrik and all the annoying things the Red Wing does, such as reduce Crosby to a rather dirty, little hockey player whose cheap shots have embarrassed himself, not to mention his team.
Not that his buddy, Evgeni Malkin is Mister Clean. The Rapid Russian didn't learn much of a lesson after escaping an NHL suspension which should have been enforced, nor does Malkin believe that crosschecking a Detroit player in the back deserves anything but a standing ovation.
Who knows, maybe those tactics will have reduced the Red Wings to fear -- if not loathing -- and cause them to disintegrate before the capacity crowd which will be roaring for another comeback.
Hey, if he Pens can rally from a two-nothing games deficit, why shouldn't they be able to win one more home game?
Answer: They should -- and will, 4-2 -- but if you don't believe The Maven, listen up to Sidney The Kidney.
"We've been through a lot that we've had to bounce back from," asserts Mister Mangled Moustache.
They have; they have. Pittsburgh could very well win The Stanley Cup but that will depend in large part on Pavel Datsyuk and his ability to match a nifty comeback (two assists, Plus-2) game on Saturday; not to mention Chris Osgood's enthusiasm over playing in a BIG game -- like Number Six -- and some lessons learned by Detroit's intense coach Mike Babc0ck, who has to like his goalie today.
Right now, Osgood's numbers include a .927 save percentage, 2.00 goals against average and a pretty clear head going into his biggest game of the campaign.
"I gotta stay focused," Chris says. "We've had a lot of ups and downs since the playoffs started; the series have been real difficult."
Now for some HOT, late, breaking news: How well Osgood can defuse an awfully scary lineup will go a long way toward determining whether The Cup will be won in Pittsburgh.
Babc0ck is betting on nothing, just hoping that his troops realize how close they are to the champagne.
"I've talked to my players," he reveals, "telling them that you never know when you'll get an opportunity like this again."
But Babc0ck has a one-game lead. In the end, the onus will be on Crosby and Malkin to lift their team.
No, they don't necessarily have to score as long as the support troops do the job.
But when the night is out, and the Penguins triumph, they will have had to have
been key factors in the ultimate decision.
It's as simple at that -- Game Seven at Joe Louis Arena on Friday night for the marbles.
Unless, of course, Duke Datsyuk of Detroit shouts, "Hell, no, these are MY marbles!"