The Wild will drop the puck a bit later this evening in Anaheim against the host Ducks. I have a DVR, a tablet, and a fine selection of Third Street Brewhouse's offerings. Either way, stay tuned to this space this evening.
Game about to begin.
Beer #1: Rise to the Top Cream Ale
Darcy Kuemper starting out good in net. Keep up the good work kid. Don't fuck up.
Good lord this little Swedish boy is good, but my man crush is gonna have issues if Kuemper keeps playing like this.
Luca Sbisa looks like an extra from The Sopranos.
You dopes, hanging the kid out to dry like that.
Bouchard is as helpless as a three-hour old gazelle. With less coordination.
Six minutes in and scoring chances are already 5-1. Odds of a drunken rage are rising dramatically.
How is cross checking Zucker in the face not a penalty?
Bruce Boudreau isn't nearly as much of a troglodyte as Randy Carlyle. Just saying.
Goal Selanne. Time for another beer.
Beer #2: Sugar Shack Maple Stout
Kemps Blue Bunny is getting a raw deal in starting this game. Both goals could have been prevented with better defense.
Wait. The Fox Sports North Girls have names?
Ooh! A power play? Pardon me, but I'm not holding my breath.
This power play is the only reason the Wild have more than one scoring chance this period.
Stoner drops his purse and I farted. Coincidence?
Rupp and Mitchell with a 2 on 0. Hiller not concerned, nor should he be.
Kuemper with a huge save while Gilbert does everything he can to trip and interfere with Kemps.
Start by icing the puck. That's good work, boys.
Hiller saw Seto's shot coming a mile away. That's the problem.
Tom Gilbert could give acting lessons to that Daniel Day Lewis guy.
Hairpanta is almost stroking out every time a Wild player takes a shot.
Konopka allows some Ducks goon the pleasure of getting punched in the face. I approve. (I also farted).
Beer #3: back to the cream ale. Don't get me wrong, the Sugar Shack is awesome, but I like the variety.
Bad rookie. Bad! Cover the puck better!
Yeo better breathe fire during intermission to get this team back on track.
Brodin always seems to know what to do with the puck.
Jesus this team can't score to save their lives. Wide open net, yeah, Handbag, shoot it wide. Brilliant.
Only Jack Lemon in Glengarry Glen Ross is worse at closing the deal.
I'm this close to switching to Scotch.
Beer # ... fuck it, I stopped counting. Garçon! Another Sugar Shack, sil vous plait!
Wait. What? My wife stood up and literally 2 seconds later the Wild scored. (I have no plans to start drinking coffee in an effort to sober up.)
Love watching Koivu get in Getzlaf's grill.
Also, bullshit icing. "That's good work, boys" #chiefwiggum
I will say that with these late games, I'm not opposed to showing Tom Gilbert's mug. (Kids are in bed already.)
Spurge on knocked someone else off the puck? What wizardry is this?
Mike Yeo: "Get on those rebounds!" Every Wild player: "The fuck is a rebound?"
OK. Wtf. 0.34 seconds after my wife gets off the couch, Handbag scores. Ridick.
Coyle needs to work on shooting the puck quicker.
Holy balls this Brodin kid is good.
Coyle pitches a tent in Hiller's kitchen. That's what we like to see, kid.
Cullen draws a penalty by being Cullen.
And that's game.
I'd normally add something pithy but I'm in no cond ... condish ... shape to analyze anything right now.
Tune in next time, folks.