And There Is No Joy In Blitzburgh

or an all-too-soon farewell to a hockey season and beloved arena

Okay, so last night was the seventh game in the second round of the Stanley Cup finals. Being the higher ranked hockey club, the Pens had the so-called home ice advantage. Generally, that's a huge plus, providing priceless momentum for a team.

Last night...not so much.

My beloved Boys of Winter, lead by the quintessential White Knight that is young Sidney Crosby, fell to the Montreal Canadiens by a crushing score of 5-2. It was a hard-fought contest. Our lads battled back with every fiber of their being, but alas...it was not in the cards for them to prevail. So closes another chapter in the Penguin franchise...

And with a long linger at center ice, sticks raised in recognition and appreciation to the fans for their never-ending love and support, the Pens said a teary goodbye and closed the door to their silver-domed home for the last time.

Ironically the Pens ended their tenure at the Igloo the same way it began decades ago... dropping one to the Habs. Poetic don't ya think? Yeah. Sometimes poetry stings a little.

What will happen to this unique retractable-roofed residence is still anyone's guess. All that's for certain is next year the Penguins will be the proud owners of a brand-spanking new, state-of-the-art facility built a stone's throw from the grand dame... close enough to mockingly shake its shiny, nubile TaTas at the old gal.

Bitch.

I know. It's just a building, but it is so cool. The roof OPENED revealing this treat, for Pete's sake!

It makes me sad to see it relegated to the scrap heap. Besides, it's 50. I'm 50. I think I'm taking it personally. We both have a lot of life left in us, dammit!!?!

Au Revoir, Civic Arena (yes. I prefer to use its maiden name). It's been a fun run. You have served us well and your grooviness will forever be in our hearts.

In the words of James Cromwell, "That'll do, Pig."