I don’t feel like writing anything today. I doubt anyone feels like reading anything today. Too depressed, too heartbroken, too disgusted and just too angry. Can’t do any analyzing as to what went wrong, don’t want to do any prognosticating as to what the future could or should hold. I’m not ready to even think about all the good things this season had to offer like first time scoring champs and green men advantages.

Since I’m somewhere north of 12 years old, I really should be too old to be feeling this way, but I just can’t help it. I don’t even want to watch any more hockey. That’s the beauty and the beast of hockey watching; it brings out the 12 year old in us. I can’t even stomach the idea of watching the Habs/Pens game seven that everything indicates should be a great game. I need to find something to do that’s at the opposite end of the spectrum of hockey, like immersing myself in the films of the french new wave or going to dental school. Scratch the dental school one, too big a chance of running into hockey players.

I’ll get over it, we’ll all get over. Hope springs eternal, and in another couple of weeks I’ll be raring to go. Just not today.