Lost in his own thoughts about bad life decisions gone awry, the founder of the “Two Geographically Disparate Teams Without Logical Connection Fan” club sits alone on a crowded mass transportation vehicle staring blankly into the abyss. On this night he has presumably sullied his reputation by consuming shame by the inning. With each power play his descent into misery was expedited by futility.
It Steen’s slap shot goal with 21.1 seconds to go way a punch to the grill, then the Cardinals 6-1 clinical dismantling of the Pirates was a groin shot.
The Blackhawks lost with just seconds to go.
The Pirates were just lost, but at least they weren’t this joyless, soulless man, hated by karma, sports, and anybody with any reasonable sense of fashion.