It's 1-1, Bitch

I went to a birthday party for someone I hardly know at a swanky joint to assuage my wife and to avoid tonight's Sharks game. Game 1 was such a pathetic limp dick that I wanted no part of anything connected to the team. I have put in my fifteen years. I'm done. Let's go to the fucking party where I know no one. Somehow, we escape relatively early to a bar that's showing the game in big HD. It's 1-1. In the second period, the Avs go up 2-1, 3-2, 4-3, and each time the Sharks come back. The third period is a bit tighter, but the Avs score and make it 5-4, just about the time I'm paying the babysitter per hour more than a French civil servant. With a minute left, they pull Nabokov and the fuckers are struggling to even get the puck into the offensive zone. Finally, a lucky bounce puts it on the board where Joe Thornton finds a wide open Dani Heatley who fucks up the shot so badly it flicks over to Joe Pavelski who knocks it home with 25 seconds to play. In the overtime, the Sharks dominate after Nabby, who had been absolutely wretched in regulation, makes two key stops. The puck cycles down for Clowe, who flings it to the center where Setoguchi tip drills it into net. Sharks win. I was pumping my fists and screaming so loud I even managed to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and could only think psychokillin' wino. For all the shit this team puts you through, they occasionally give you this, and this is something regular life don't offer. You can be jaded and cynical and tired, but you cannot deny the power of what happened in this game. Crazy drama. I am not healthy.

Game 3 Sunday.