I haven’t written much this season, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been following our favorite flightless fowl. Now we are at the end of one more farcical season, and it is time for a postmortem for the 6th Pittsburgh Penguins’ corpse, in a row.
Some Penguins’ fans are angry, even more are frustrated, but these emotions are predicated on each fan’s expectations of the team. For those Penguin Poop readers that remember my preseason predictions, they will remember that once again I was pretty much spot on. My only error this past season was in thinking that at least Sidney Crosby, or Evgeni Malkin would fail to play all 82 games. Everything else I wrote about happened.
Therefore, I am neither angry nor frustrated. In the wake of just one more Mike Sullivan debacle if you are thinking I am gloating, I am not doing that either. Like someone sitting too far back to help, watching a disaster happen, I am just sad; sad that no one seems to really want to use logic and fix the problem.
Even now, in the wake of (to paraphrase the Moody Blues) “another useless season’s energy spent”.
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