After an hour of waiting for them to fix the Zamboni [Todd, they ran over a puck …], the game got started.
It took three goals in the last five minutes to tie and finally take the lead in the game. The third, an empty-netter, sealed it. The second, a gritty garbage goal, made Brett McConnachie move up several notches in my opinion. I’d think he was better, though, if he hadn’t been -1 on a night when he put in two goals. [To me, Steve Canter’s still the freshman who is farthest along in the class.]
I am noticing a trend after games when I go to dinner with the Pep Band: Doug Childs and I pretty well dominate the “serious” conversation, and people disturbingly listen to what I say. Oi.
I am so wiped out right now, but perversely it’ll probably be close to 2:00 a.m. before I get soundly to sleep. Hence, I’m poking an entry while I have a shred of coherence.
If there was any doubt that I’d just get a hotel room in Rome tomorrow night, my current level of weariness, combined with the likelihood of wintry crap fouling the mountainous route back from there, have sealed the deal.
Let the road-tripping begin.