Let It Be: A Sequel to So Be It

Author's Note

Author's Note:

I know, I know. You guys hate these. They're long and boring, and just about make you want to slam your head into a brick wall, eh? Well, I'm sorry. I'm honestly, truly, genuinely sorry. Every time I write one of these, I promise that it'll be the last one for a long stretch, and then something else happens and that plan sort of goes out the window.

But seeing that the 2015 Stanley Cup Playoff race for the Pens starts tomorrow, I wanted to write this tonight.

Ultimately this is just a fourteen year-old fangirl's account on the Penguins' season so far, so I mean, you don't have to read it. It'd be a big deal to me if you did, but no hard feelings if you don't want to.

So, as you probably know, and as I mentioned just two paragraphs ago, tomorrow is Game One of the Pittsburgh Penguins/New York Rangers series.

(Let me just say it on record that I'm taking the Penguins in six.)

But anyways, tomorrow starts the most wonderful time of the year: Pittsburgh Penguins playoff hockey! Yay! Buckle up baby! (Nah, we not gonna bring up last year? Okay, sorry.)

Basically, I got a lot of faith in this team.

I haven't always (as I've occasionally made pitifully clear) but going into the postseason, I feel confident in what we have. I mean, sure, we might not have our Norris-worthy Tanger healthy, or our twenty year-old sensation Olli Maatta healthy either, but hey, we still got the two greatest centers in the world, and a fucking amazing goaltender.

And I mean, plus we have Patric Hornqvist and that man is the definition of happy-go-lucky, which should basically just win us the Cup, anyhow.

(You know, off topic for just a second but God, who doesn't miss when Olli was the teenage-sensation? Because I know I do. Fuck, I miss hearing the announcers saying it FOURTEEN TIMES A GAME.)

Plus, we have something all the others teams (except Ottawa, with the passing off their assistant coach; R.I.P.) lack: our own guardian angel. And yes, I do mean Pascal Dupuis.

In reality, I know the Rangers pretty much kicked out asses and cleaned our clocks in the regular season, but that doesn't matter now. It's playoffs: everything else is meaningless.

I mean, guys, the only thing that separates us from the greatest trophy in the fucking world is sixteen wins. SIXTEEN. We, an organization as prestigious as the Pittsburgh Penguins, can easily achieve that. Fuck, we can achieve it in our sleep. And goddammit, we're going to.

Maybe I sound insane. Maybe I sound like I've been drinking the black and gold Kool-Aid, or hell, maybe I sound like an absolute moron. And I mean, it's more-than-likely that I'm all three of those things; maybe I'm so fucked beyond belief, I don't even know. But at the same point in time, I do know this:

1. The Pittsburgh Penguins are one of the only things that've been a constant for me, over the last two years. -Granted, they've also caused me some of the most intense pain of my life, but that isn't the point.- The point is, this team has been there for me when I seemingly had nothing else. This team was the one thing to metaphorically never give up on me. And for that, I could never give up on them. I will passionately support this team until my death. (Or, until they're the death of me.)

2. Like, I don't know if you know, but I'm crazy in love with some cute, mildly geeky sweetheart from Kingston, who goes by the name of Scott Harrington. And on Sunday, he was recalled, and could theoretically play tomorrow night in a National Hockey League Stanley Cup Playoff game. To me, that is the most incredible feeling in the entire world. I'm so beyond proud of him. And him being in the NHL makes me 106% more protective/passionate/in love with this Penguins team.

3. Our odds suck. We're the underdogs. No one expects us to beat the Rangers; I mean fuck, we hardly made the playoffs. But this also means we've got nothing to lose. There isn't the overwhelming, fuckload of pressure like there was last year. And frankly, that makes me more comfortable. I feel like we have a better shot this season than we did last. Call me crazy -seeing that I am- but I really do feel like we have a chance.

I mean, I don't even really know. We could get the shit beaten out of us, and this author's note would become the shittiest piece of writing ever.

Or we could win. And you could all dump the container of Gatorade on my head since I was just so right. (That's a joke. I'm not that vain. Plus, I don't like Gatorade. So if you're going to pour something over me, could it be something I love, like Panera Bread's green iced tea? Because that stuff's the shit.)

I'm just a kid with big hopes and lot of love for a very special defenseman. I'm also wired on caffeine right now, so that's why I'm a little all-over-the-place in this. I don't know shit, and I'm sorry if this got you all jacked up, and the Penguins end up losing.

But, in all seriousness, let me end with this:

I truly, deeply, genuinely believe this team has the talent to take it all the way. There isn't a single doubt in my mind that says we can't beat the Rangers. I know we can, and I know we will.

And even if we don't; even if we get swept or something along those horrifying lines, it is not the end of the world. If we lose, it isn't time to pull out the #FireJohnston hashtags, while storming Rutherford's office with torches and pitchforks. And no, it isn't time for the #BuyoutScuderi or #TradeLovejoy hashtags, either. (And let me tell you, if I see any of those, I will drive my nonexistent car to your house, cut off your genitals, and feed them to my cats.)

If we lose, it'll be okay.

But we aren't going to lose, so that isn't a concern.

Things are going to be alright; the kids will be alright.

(And yeah, I'm also sorry I didn't quite fit in the usual John Green reference; maybe next time.)