Tuesday, April 11, 2006

The Biggest Game of the Year

(tonight's version, at least) and the Thrashers thumped Tampa Bay handily and cheerfully. It makes one wonder what might have been if they had decided to unveil the Lightning-beating genie a few months back. Now, they're four points out with four games to go (TB has a mere three left), and that dreaded demon hope is worming its way back into my heart.

I can't tell you anything that happened in the game for certain, other than the Thrashers scoring more goals than the other team, and Mike Dunham letting fewer pucks past him than Sean Burke. So feel free to imagine any scenario: perhaps an enraged, half-sane, PCP-crazed Marian Hossa started disemboweling Lightning defensemen, letting new scoring sensation Andy Sutton fire pucks at will past the goalie. I couldn't tell you any different -- I was at a tony wine bar, batting my well-groomed eyelashes at a cute girl. I'm the world's shittiest hockey fan.

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