I meant to sprint out of work last night and join Tapeleg and Meg to see the Avalanche's last hurrah, but things got busy and I stayed an extra 45 minutes, then I got stuck in Bon Jovi traffic, and so I arrived at the bar, sprinted into the back room, and looked up at the screen:
7-1. (it ended 8-2.)
I'm glad I missed the majority of the game; that was the hockey equivalent of Super Bowl XXIV for me. There's no team left that I really feel anything for -- maybe the Canadiens, but they're about to bounce out; maybe the Penguins, but only because I like penguins. The Wings look too good to lose (though their fans continue to indicate that Detroit was used as a thalidomide testing ground; that's some comfort), so I'll just set my sights on soccer. Go whichever Slavic team does best!