Fuck the Detroit fans, bloggers, etc. and their ridiculous, whiny conspiracy theories. There is no plot in place by the NHL and Gary Bettman to keep you from winning. If you believe this in your heart, you're a joke. There's nothing worse on earth than a sore winner.
Fuck Mike Babcock, and his "Crosby's a dirty player, he's a head-hunter, wait, sorry, no he's not." routine.
Fuck know-nothing peddler of cry porn Mitch Albom, who just started watching hockey last week when the season finales of Desperate Housewives, Ugly Betty and Brothers and Sisters freed up a few of his nights. Fuck Morrie too.
But most of all, fuck me. Fuck me for almost giving up and losing the faith on Sunday night.
Make no mistake, if the Penguins don't win tonight and Thursday, it's over. I will be enraged on a level I seldom reach. I will wish horrible things on complete strangers, things that will fuck up my karma for years.
Tonight is the last shot at redemption, and let's face it, the odds aren't great. But I've believed all season, and I see no reason to stop now.