Delaying the inevitable bombast of simmering disappointment, or the start of a tastelicious comeback worthy of saucy thick beef stew and fresh blueberry muffins with a laudanum chaser? Fuck if I know.
Detroit vs. Pittsburgh: one team is beat up and injured -- which is akin to saying one is [insert famous windbag of your choice] and stupid, thus apologies for the repetition -- and will likely be missing key guys; the other has the two best players on the planet still on skates instead of wasting precious time doing something pointless and boring such as that game of skill which is not a sport at all, just like darts, which isn't a sport either dammit but is enjoyable unlike the aforementioned but unnamed game of skill but not a sport known to the washed and well-coiffed cracker masses as golf. Of course, the Red Wings could conjure up some 60s old man castoff Maple Leaf in like flinty übergrit and pull it off, but the odds are likely going to die. Penguins in six.
Speaking of über, no poetical panegyric for you since your drunken Blackhawks lost, muahahahaha, etc.
Sure, your team is a collective goober
but don't worry, you're still über.