Sidney BrOSSby*
Locked in the Washer
Looking back, the Penguins have been blessed with some great talent. People describe our fans as spoiled, childish wanna be hockey fans who can't fill an arena when they don't have a god on skates. The names of the greats ring in the halls of The Hockey Hall of Fame coursing through time like a great pulse of electricity illuminating the game.
But doesn't it feel backward? The real story begins again when Crosby and Malkin are gone. The tide rolls out again and the sandy shores are covered with a yard sale of pieces to old broken zambonis, tater skin foil wrappers, and an old jock strap here or there.
To me, its not only about getting another cup. It's about FarnHam and Chorney and Ray Whitney. I don't who the owner is going to be when the stars fall again or even the GM. But I know what's going to be on the ice.
But doesn't it feel backward? The real story begins again when Crosby and Malkin are gone. The tide rolls out again and the sandy shores are covered with a yard sale of pieces to old broken zambonis, tater skin foil wrappers, and an old jock strap here or there.
To me, its not only about getting another cup. It's about FarnHam and Chorney and Ray Whitney. I don't who the owner is going to be when the stars fall again or even the GM. But I know what's going to be on the ice.