Picture
Gerbe vs. Hartnell
The Yachtsman

I've been moping all over the place for the past several days. I've felt despair, anger, frustration, hate, denial....every bad emotion I've learned to swallow as a tried and true Buffalo fan. The near-medical emergency hangovers (back to back, mind you) didn't help the situation either. I even picked a minor skirmish with KateBits on the twidiot machine (and realized what a moron I sounded like when my phone thankfully crapped out on me. Again, apologies KB....UNITE!) Before I sat down to write a doom & gloom post, I happened to look on the TBN site for the 3rd time today and realized I hadn't checked the Bucky Gleason column.
Picture
COME ON! LET'S GO BUFFALO! WWWWWWWWWAAAARRRRRRPAAAAAAAATTTTHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, after reading that (and from Bucky Gleason, of all people) I really feel like a horse's patoot. It's not the end of the series. We've got some mental miscues that we paid for, but we can overcome those. We may be a little short on talent, but who gives a shit. Passion, toughness, and effort have all been with these Sabres tenfold this series. We're home cooking tonight. In the playoffs. Forget the small contingent of quiet fans, the size of the Flyers, the positions in the standings, the 1 game hole....we are Buffalo. We will at the very worst go down swinging harder than you.

Sabres on the motherfucking warpath.

I think my hangover just broke.

I'm off to the game.

Hasek Jersey, with Glory.

Fuck and Yes.
 

weebly analytics var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-7870337-1']); _gaq.push(['_setDomainName', 'none']); _gaq.push(['_setAllowLinker', true]); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();