Oh, Kippy

Let's not talk about the first half of last night's game, shall we? The most entertaining part was the girl sitting behind myself and Dave. Over an hour and a half, she turned out such gems as "SLAPSHOT!" (used anytime a Flames player touched the puck), "HIT HIM, LOMBARDI!" (used anytime Matty came near any Duck... doesn't she want him to keep his pretty face?), and "AIM IT AT THE NET!" (used anytime the Flames dumped the puck in the opposing zone).

Her male companion was mystified that no icing was called when the puck was dumped down the ice during penalty kills. I'll...just leave it at that.

At least Dave and I were still laughing, rather than angrily demanding our money back or ripping our eyeballs out of their respective sockets. The Flames were, simply put, terrible through the first half of the night. Slow. Clumsy. Awkward.

The crowning moment seemed to be when Dion doffed the gloves to fight, only to step on his own stick and fall on his ass.

I have to admit, at that part, I was still laughing. Hysteria, you know.

But the game had a phenomenal finish despite all the gaffes and skating through molasses and not doing jack of the first half. Eriksson (of all players!) had a nearly decent night, with one nice play that took away a breakaway even without a stick. Aucoin played a smart game - no mad skillz here, but enough experience to know where to be. And that takeaway by Huselius was just sick.

One can expect the league's two leaders in fighting majors to be all scrappy and such, and the night didn't disappoint. Nolan got in a couple of shots against Bertuzzi which were enjoyed by all.

And the score? Damn fine. Just like the game.