Game 6 Recap: Lightning Win. Whatever. Roller Coaster of Emotion. Game 7. It's On. Let's Go.

Stress City. WIIM forever.

I'm writing this recap as the game goes on. So read the damn bullets and enjoy the roller coaster that is me on an off night from work drinking and recapping a playoff game. It's like Cedar Point's classic Gemini roller coaster but way fucking better (p.s. I've never been on the Magnum or Millennium Force or the other bigger coasters because I hate heights. So fuck you if you like heights. I don't like them. And I don't like the Lightning. The Corkscrew is the bees knees though).

Let's do this.


  • Wings have a nice opening shift from Gustav Nyquist, Henrik Zetterberg and Justin Abdelkader. Some solid pressure, but, of course, it didn't last. We forget that last game the Lightning were pretty good in the first 10 minutes or so. Tonight they were also good in the first 10 minutes or so. This time, though, they scored the first goal of the hockey game. It was the 4th line against the Triplet line. Some miscommunication between Luke Glendening and Danny DeKeyser and Tyler Johnson found himself flying into the zone and pretty much as alone as you can get towards the goaltender without being on a breakaway. The little pest is good and finished. 1-0 Tampa. If it's not for Johnson, the Lightning ain't go shit so far on offense.

  • Oh wait... just kidding. Here's what I recall off the top of my head about the 2nd goal as I write this during the 1st intermission: Abdelkader absolutely SMOKED Cedric Paquette with a clean as a whistle hit. Felt like some kind of momentum boost for the Wings... like a Kronwalling used to do back in the day. Instead, Wings blew whatever chance they had in the offensive zone and the Lightning came rushing back up the ice. Bam. Boom. Bang. Jason Garrison trailing the play, he's wide open after a sloppy line change by the Wings (stop me if you've heard that before this season), he doesn't miss the wide open net. It's 2-0 and I'm angry.

  • Jon Cooper cried the last two days about the officiating. Subtle interference... bloo bloo bloo... whatever. Join the Edzo Club of Whining about the Red Wings and take a number in line with Michel Therrien. The Red Wings got the first two power plays of the game. The refs let some shit go. It's playoff hockey. It happens. Whether we like it or not, whether it's right or wrong, that's how it's going to be. Adjust or die. Wings blew two power plays. They sucked. Maybe one good chance on each? That's not enough. Quite frankly the entire period I don't remember too many good scoring chances. I fully expect the Lightning to get the next 4 power plays. Game management or something. Ask Jeff Marek. He'll tell you all about it.

  • Tomas Tatar needs to be better. I need him to catch a pass and shoot the damn puck. The kid has a good shot. Stop trying to dipsy do fuckeroo and just rip a shot past Ben Bishop. He's a cocky mother fucker. Let's be a cocky playoff mother fucker. The Red Wings need him to do his thing and that thing is scoring goals. Luke Glendening... be better too.

  • Some positives: I liked Justin Abdelkader's game in this period. He had a nice drive getting the puck to Nyquist for what I remember as the best scoring chance of the period. Gus just hung onto the puck for a beat or two too long. He does that sometimes. Seriously folks, if the Wings are going to come back and win this game, Abby is going to be the one leading the way./

  • Overall... you're at home and you have the match-ups you want. Disappointed by that 1st period. I'm angry. I don't like to be angry. Stop fucking around and end this series. Game 7 scares the shit out of me./


  • HOLY FUCK PETR MRAZEK. Screen_Shot_2015-04-27_at_8.13.27_PM.0.png
  • Damnit Tyler Johnson. He's like Brad Marchand, but not dirty and better offensively. He annoys the piss out of you. I don't know what else to say. He just fucking scores goals. I hate him (but I'd love to have him). You can't let that goal happen. The classic Babcock bad line change. It's not like we haven't seen that before. Should Petr stop it? I don't know. Johnson is apparently good this series. Good player. Good shot. That was a kick to the balls.

  • HIT THE FUCKING NET. My goodness the power play sucks, but it kind of doesn't. I mean they seem to have some possession sometimes and get chances, but every. single. time. they. shoot. the. puck. they. miss. the net.

  • Of course they didn't miss that one time Tatar scored. Sorry I said all those non-supportive things in the 1st Period bullets. I take it all back. We have a chance now. Although as I type that, JJ, our fearless leader, reminds me of the following: "Wings have never scored two goals in one period before, so they have to score here before the 2nd ends." Welp. Guess what!?!? They didn't score. So what better time than the 3rd period to change things up a bit, no? Exactly. Win. This. Game.

  • If Tatar was in my 1st period doghouse, I'm putting Gus Nyquist in the 2nd period doghouse. He's just annoying me now. I don't know exactly what it is. Too many moves? Too much finesse? Just shoot the puck or something and score. And while we're at it. Hey Henrik Zetterberg, you have a beautiful beard and you're really handsome, we all understand that, but the whole not scoring thing . Let's fix that next period. I'm wearing your shirsey instead of my Shirtuzzi. I'm counting on you. I need your Winter Classic winking gif to be a 3rd period "I got this fucking shit" gif. Put us on your surgically repaired back and let's go for a fucking ride to round two. My heart can't handle watching a Game 7 while at work on Wednesday. I'd like to marry my fiancee in September. I'd prefer not to have a heart attack and die before that happens. Celebratory fun tonight. Not later. Do it now. Do it. Do it. Do it. Do it. Let's all do it together. This 3rd period is going to be fun. F-U-N. FUN. Let's go.

  • GOAL MOTHER FUCKERS. Tomas Tatar clearly reads these recap drafts during intermissions. WE'RE ALIVE. The longer this game and this recap goes. The less coherent it's likely going to be. We scored a goal. That's right we did it. It's 3-2 early. No late goal to make it 3-2 for false hope. Real hope. But "hope" is not a strategy. Scoring goals and tying this game is a strategy. If I remembered what the replay was, I'd recap this goal more clearly. I don't though. So let's drink and LET'S GO.

  • Yeah... Kllorn. Good name, bro. KILLorn. He KILLed us. I thought for sure it would be 3-3 headed to overtime. The Wings can't do anything easy. They can't just fucking get the job done. Damnit. Stress. More stress. Hey Coppola, I ain't gonna do any work on Wednesday. Going to be miserable all day tomorrow. All night tonight. And tomorrow. Game 7. Game 7. Game 7. This ain't our father's Red Wings. Hell. This ain't my teenage years Red Wings. I'm old as shit now (27... yeah I know I'm not THAT old, but it feels that way), but they can't do anything easy. Game 7 on the road. Fucking Killorn. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

  • Gus fell down. You're killing me, Smalls.

  • Empty net goal. I hate everything. Ya'll think we'd win? I thought we would. When Tatar scored to make it 3-2 I thought it was DESTINY. Like Alberto Del Rio 2011 stupid Vince McMahon push DESTINY. Nope. Nevermind. We're Daniel Bryan. The Lightning are Del Rio. Tonight was SummerSlam 2011. I hate the end to SummerSlam 2011. Let's make sure Game 7 is WrestleMaina XXX. #YesYesYes

This sucked. Roller coasters suck. This is why I don't ride them. It's ups and downs and ups and downs and then sometimes more downs. Tonight was a down. Down. Down. Down. Wednesday? What will Wednesday be? It's an up. Up. Up. Up. It's Game 7. Game fucking mother fucking 7. SEVEN. It's what we all love and hate. You've been there. I've been there. Playing roller hockey in the street and/or drive way with Tony Mango, Joe & Jeff Snook. Yup. It was always Game 7. We were the heros. I scored a game winner. So did they. We all love and hate this situation. But here we are. Let's go. Let's fucking go. Every team needs that fucking close call in the Stanley Cup Playoffs. This ain't the NBA. Shit ain't easy.

If it ain't rough. It ain't right.

Do or die. Butt clench time.

Stress City here we are.

Let's go.
Let's freakin' go.
I'm all in. Kyle's all in. We're all in.
One last ride.
Ride or die.

Game 7.