Hockey Orphan: the Puck Huffers on the Pittsburgh Penguins

Click on the logo above to read all the Hockey Orphan entries

(While I admit that the Penguins are my team, the fact that they missed the playoffs for six years softened my allegiance ever so slightly. Typically, then, I like to venture to the Pens-logopshere for all things Malkin and Crosby. One of the absolute best Penguins blogs goes by the name Puck Huffers. They absolutely rocked the All-Decade team like no one else, a post that makes you wonder if they travel the country destroying hotel rooms. ANYWAY, make sure to make Puck Huffers one of your go-to sources for info on the igloo.)

We hate to show up late with our feature submission and walk in here like we own the place, but really you all leave us no choice. So you’re a hockey fan but don’t know what jersey to invest your hard earned money in, what team to cheer for, scream at, and on the occasion you feel like getting feisty in a bar fight, bleed for? It’s not that hard to realize, good citizen, that you should be a Penguins fan.

Do let us explain.

THE PROOF THAT THE PENGUINS ARE UNDOUBTEDLY THE BEST HOCKEY TEAM IN THE NHL. EVER.

1)We love the franchise and it loves us back. The Penguins franchise knows its fans. It knows we want feel good commercials and slogans.
It knows we want tacky fashion and decorations beamed in directly from the early 90’s. It knows that when we can’t see a playoff game in the arena, we’ll probably still want to watch it at the huge, free, outdoor viewing location. Every time the organization does something for us we have to take a minute to say “God damn, we really need to check for recording devices around the apartment, because that was MY idea when I was drunk on Iron City last Tuesday.” But really, with God – Oh, hahaha, you common folk who don’t walk in his gracious light might know him as “Mario”- head manning the operation, what can you expect?

2)We’re the best dressed team in the league. Go ahead and roll your eyes at us women basing decisions off of fashion. Sorry boys, at the end of the day we’re still the ones you have to talk out of our skirts. You might want to pay attention. And on top of that, we don’t even believe that you are a man if you don’t marvel at the glory that is Eric Godard’s bright red pimp suit.
Our boys also offer up an assortment of unreal shirts and hats that are so unbelievably hideous they must be extremely expensive and fashionable.

Either that or dumpster diving is a Pittsburgh Penguins pastime, and really, are you going to argue with the coolness of that either?

3)Our players are as entertaining as they get. Sure, we could take this time to talk about Malks and Sid being so exciting to watch play, et cetera, et cetera, but we won’t because they speak for themselves. Well…Malkin tries, at least. Regardless, we’re not talking about that shit. We’d rather focus on the shoe checking, baby-clothes-hiding, Fu Manchu growing, donut-spinning, retarded group of fuckups that are the boys on the Penguins. They’re the kids you wanted to be friends with in high school because you never knew exactly what they were doing this weekend, but you were pretty sure it was going to end up a major topic of discussion at the 5, 10, and 20 year reunions. Every ten seconds you have to stop and ask “Oh my god, what the hell is he doing? Who the jesus let him out of the house today?”

On the flip side, they’re one of the most charitable hockey teams in the league. Every other day you get a slew of pictures of some charity event one of the guys threw together in his spare time. We’re fans of a lot of other teams, and we’ve come to realize how much the Pens really do. It’s kind of amazing.

4)Sid’s more unreal than you even thought. An added bonus of having Sidney Crosby on your team? If you somehow mathematically calculate the curve of his ass, you find the meaning of life.

Too bad no one’s ever survived the equation.


REASONS YOU MIGHT WANT TO STEAR CLEAR OF ALL OF THIS AWESOMENESS
We won’t say that the Penguins are without fault. We’re happy to list our downsides.

1)Penguins hockey is not for the faint of heart, nor those who easily give up. If you’re too much of a bitch to handle some excitement, we’re not the team for you. Our battle cry has forever been “third period team!” because we like to failboat a lot in the first two periods and then remember “Oh, hey! We’re playing hockey!” and take it back in the third. Our seasons are equally as distressing anymore – especially this season past – it always seems like we’re on the cusp of both failure and success. As a Penguins fan, chances are you might have to sit through quite a few years of us toiling in mediocrity. But there’s always a payoff at the end. Just…don’t get too comfortable in your chair. Ever.

2)You might not always appreciate the sass of the Lord.
Our Lord and Savior has been known to play his pimp card. Namely threatening to sell the team to faraway lands if the world didn’t meet his demands. After the world met his demands he just laughed, in a pimp-like fashion, and informed everyone he was never actually planning on doing it anyway. While we appreciate this trickery and deceit in the name of shady business, we can understand why others couldn’t handle this amount of pimp in their day to day lives.

3)You have to deal with a lot of bullshit. While your favorite players may be Robert Scuderi; American Hero, President T. Kennedy, Maxime the French Canadian Dream, or any other of the Penguins assorted cast of characters, every homer in the street is going to hear “Penguins” and immediately assume you are Crosby’s biggest fan and supporter. They will then proceed to air their every grievance to you, and follow up with something like “But that Malkin, he’s something else.” If you have a low quota of faces you can punch in a day, the Penguins are not the team for you.

4)The team and the city are a package deal, and that’s a lot of work.

You aren’t a Penguins fan without loving Pittsburgh. Maybe you live there, maybe you plan to visit one day as a sort of holy quest, either way you’ve got to be emotionally involved with Steel City. It’s a different sort of place, something both of us have realized after leaving. It’s a little odd, and maybe not what normal people are used to, but once you fall for it you’re never turning back, and you’re never going to find another place that feel quite like it. The people, the workers, the surrounding landscapes, the streets, the bridges, just the feel of Pittsburgh, it’s all distinct. The Penguins are a gateway drug to Pittsburgh and vice-versa. If you can’t handle one, you won’t last long with the other.


So, come, take our hands and we shall lead you to salvation – that is if you think you can handle it. We didn’t even mention how being a Penguins fan throws in the advantage of getting to know us. We just thought that was a given.

Say it with us now.
Go Pens.

Throwing caution to the wind: Puck Huffers give their controversial All-Decade Picks

(Big thanks to the great duo of Zoë and Kim from Puck Huffers for this great group of picks. We'd say they have balls but ... uh ... they don't. Make sure that you follow their hysterical coverage of the Pittsburgh Penguins.)

We thought about this from many different angles. In the end, however, we decided to create the team that we, as human beings, would draft for fun, i.e. in order to piss everyone off. We have strange fixations and obsessions in the world of hockey that not even we understand, and an opportunity like this to indulge them is too great to pass up. If you want us to seriously apply our honed judgments of the league and talent as hockey fans, you're out of luck. We have decided instead to have the times of our lives.

First, our all-decade forward line.

It would be centered by Mario Lemieux, because he is obviously still in the best shape of his life.
His wingers would clearly have to be people of amazing talent, skill, and virtue. Not many people deserve to play with 66.
We have, in an unprecedented decision, chosen Rick Nash of the Columbus Blue Jackets and Cal Clutterbuck of the Minnesota Wild.

Rick Nash is pretty much the guy on your floor at college that didn't do anything except drink beer and watch sports obsessively, saying things like "fucking Madrid FC" regarding games that no one watched except for him. We think he would be tons of fun to hang out with.
He also has great hands and great skill and could probably take some sick passes from Mario. He makes plays that no one on his team even thinks of because, let's face it, while CBJ may be the hardest working team in hockey (and we'll take that assertion with us to our deaths) they're not the most talented by any means. Seeing Nash with Lemieux would just make us happy. Even if it really doesn't make any sense.

Clutterbuck is pretty much a thug. He currently leads the NHL in hits, surpassing the glory of Brooks Orpik, which we don't approve of at all. But. . .if anyone deserves it. . .it's Cal. The boy is a 20-year-old wrecking machine, but he knows how to cash in on his goals as well. Really, we're just kind of amused by him. We'd like to see him plow into some fuckers and basically decapitate them, then take a sweet pass from Nash and sneak it in off the post. This also makes no sense, but we are satisfied with our choices. His name is also amazing.

For our defense, we pick Sergei Gonchar because he's amazing and we're homers, and we also pick Scott Niedermayer because he's sick and denying it would be stupid on our part. They're both consummate defensemen--potentially lethal offensively, and also quite responsible in their own ends. They're also veterans, clearly. On our team, Gonchar would wear the C. He is a fucking warrior. Sorry Scott, you are too. . .just not in the same way that is close to our hearts.

If you read our blog, you know that we have invented our own little universe in which John Curry of the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Penguins is God. We worship goaltenders. If John Curry is God then Steve Mason is Jesus Christ. We're still reeling from the photo shown above, in which he stones Henrik Zetterberg like an honest-to-god PIMP. No goaltender in the league has a more promising future, and no goaltender has come along in a looooooooong time with that amount of raw talent, skill, intelligence, and athleticism. Plus, we have an ongoing love affair with everyone who wears a Blue Jackets uniform. (Even R.J. Umberger a little bit, the slimy bastard.) Mason is glorious. Better than any of your false idols. It's called blasphemy, everyone. BLASPHEMY.

Okay, so, we're cheating a little bit here. Herb Brooks coached the 1999-2000 Pittsburgh Penguins and that was the last NHL team he coached before his death in 2003. It was a weird year. No one hit 100 points, but Jagr took home the Art Ross. Pittsburgh made the playoffs and lost in six games to the Flyers in the Semifinals. . .gross. Luckily, thanks to Philly's long tradition of choking in the playoffs, it couldn't get any weirder when they played eventual Cup champs New Jersey. But anyway. If you don't want Herb Brooks coaching your team, we question your sanity. Honestly, the Penguins could probably have used him this season. Michel Therrien or Dan Bylsma he is not. He's scarier. He knows what the hell is going on. Even in death.

Oh, Matthew Barnaby. . .your name warms our hearts verily. You can be our all-decade loudmouth/pest/badass.
We're pretty sure by this point a love of Matthew Barnaby in Pittsburgh is genetic.
A person from southwestern Pennsylvania who doesn't like Barnaby is not to be trusted.
We have to pick him for this.
Our genetic makeup won't let us do otherwise.

Tie Domi fought you and he didn't give a shit how big you were. He was 5'10" and he was going to murder you.
Or at least show you what he was made of.
Courage like that is necessary on a team.
Put him on the ice with either Cal or Barnaby. Instant line brawl.
We don't support in any way the idea that the NHL needs to turn into a circus, but line brawls clearly don't happen enough anymore.
He could teach Steve Mason how to throw 'em down and then we'd really be in business.

We can't imagine a better, more lovely team than this.
We're sorry we cheated, made irrational decisions, and picked guys whose careers' golden ages had long passed by the turn of the century.
But man. . .we had fun doing it.