This series against the Flyers has been so unlike anything else going on in the playoffs, that I had forgotten what normal, tense, edge-of-your seat hockey playoff games are like. So, just by glancing at the 3-2 final score (in favor of the Pens!), you should be able to tell that this was not a massacre or ass-beating like the previous four games had been. And I definitely felt that difference in the last ten minutes of the game.
Funny, last game I spent the final ten minutes rationalizing with myself that there was no possible way the Flyers could score seven goals to get into the double-digits in the final half-period. This game, my restless leg syndrome (self-diagnosed) was out of control. I was torn between watching and not watching. I was having an anxiety attack, but I was also having a lot of fun.
|Early into Friday's sunset on Corey's balcony.|
While we were up there, a couple of my favorite neighborhood familiars walked by beneath us. One family who lives up the street with several little kids and a dad who is often seen running behind them while they learn to ride bikes up and down the sidewalks. The other is the blind man who I hear tapping his cane at least once a day walking down Gross. I love these comforts of home. I wonder sometimes if my neighbors see me leave with my bike every morning for work and think: "oh, there's that neighbor girl who rides that bike everywhere..."
|Sun setting over Friendship Park.|
|Lou's might quickly become my go-to favorite local bar.|
It was an odd night, with many performances of the "Margarita Dance" enjoyed. The Pens gave themselves another opportunity to prove they are better than the stinky Flyers. And they gave us another opportunity to plop down on another stool in another bar where they hopefully will chant and hoot and holler as loud and as well as the crowd did at Lou's.