Stop! It's the mothafuckin playoffs.

Playoffs.

Holy fuck.

It's finally here. All those months of agony and ecstasy, pleasure and pain, boners and buzzkills--and now we get to do it all over again.

It's a great day to be a hockey fan.

More specifically, it's a great day to be a Red Wings fan. My favorite Red Wings hat is perched atop my desk for all to see. (I triple-dog-dare a horrible Pens' fan to stroll in here and say a word--one. fucking. word.) Jerseys will be worn on casual sex Fridays. Red will be worn on every other game day during the workweek. Brian will be holding down the Winged Wheel in Atlantic City this Friday, sporting his jersey and always-awesome red stubbly pre-beard.

We're pulling out the big guns for the postseason, and we hope you'll join us. That's right: Get out your talismans, voodoo dolls, nipple-clamps and electro-powered boxsprings and come along for the ride.

First things first: Following the Olympic break, we instituted a creed here to get us in the zone for the final stretch of the regular season. Now, with a few tweaks and additions, we present you the following:

The Even More Newly Minted TSO Creed: Uber-Special Playoff Edition
1. We believe in the power of the 19th consecutive year the Wings have made the playoffs.

2. We believe Pavel Datsyuk, Henrik Zetterberg, Johan Franzen, Valtteri Filppula, and Tomas Holmstrom are on a white-hot roll and are just warming up, for sure.

3. We believe in the power of Jimmy Howard, rookie extraordinaire, to stop pucks with his aura. (Do the pucks even touch him?!)

4. We believe it's now Dan Cleary's lot in life to make Brian James look like a complete jackass. (It's working!)

5. We still believe in Mike Babcock. Period.

6. We believe in the unmatched awesomeness of our blueline, as well as our forwards who own both ends of the ice. (If someone's reading this who doesn't believe in that, I will fucking KRONWALL your ass.)

7. We believe in Patrick Eaves notching a Gordie Howe hat trick at some point during the Wings' playoff run. (And, since shootouts are a no-go, there will be no #Eavesing of oneself, only of others, which is not only tolerated but wholeheartedly encouraged.)

8. We still believe in the kill.

9. We will always believe in dancing with Lord Stanley in June. Period.

Game 1 versus the Phoenix Coyotes is tonight. Moments like right now are when I most wish I had a DeLorean. Why? So I could travel back to nine months ago, before I knew that the Coyotes would even stay in Phoenix, let alone make the playoffs, and place some huge bets. It's as surprising as my realization last weekend, approximately 20 years late, that I rock at batting left-handed. (Don't laugh. I had a painful childhood. My therapist tells me it's ok to say that in the face of adversity.)

The playoffs are such a magical time of the year. In addition to watching the Wings do their thing, there are so many other fascinating matchups to track. Home crowds ablaze in team colors, players trash-talking the opposition. Lots of #FuckYeah to go around. That brings me to our Wednesday question this week:

Which non-Wings quarterfinal pairing (either Conference) most interests/excites/titillates you?

I'm sure that Brian's answer will be Pittsburgh/Ottawa because of how much he loooves Ottawa. [Insert eye roll, for the sarcastically-challenged.]

Other than the Wings, I'm most looking forward to watching the Chicago/Nashville series. Division rivals who both play exciting, tight hockey; however, both teams still have their textbook "What ifs?" hanging over their heads. Will the Hawks' offensive power be too much for the Preds? Or will Rinne stand tall and give Chicago a run for their money? The Preds are one of those teams that come on strong against tough opponents and scare the shit outta me every time the Wings play them. That being said, you know whose side we'll be on. (Sorry, K of C.)

What say the rest of you? Who are you looking forward to watching?

Finally, per the usual, some standbys to get us really, really pumped:

This tastes like a glued up dickhole.

Sorry, no recap of a game I didn't see tonight, which sucks, because I like reading those. What I can give you though is a quick story about how I came up with that little nugget of a title.

Here's how TSO spent their night - Watching the French film Amelie, which if you've never seen it before...definitely worth a watch if you don't mind subtitles. Anyway, as you know, we couldn't catch the game because we have Direct TV. Throughout the game we caught score updates. Well, movie is done, and we look at the score guide......4-2 Wings, with about two minutes left. What could possibly go wrong? We break out a big fat bag of candy and have a few pieces. Then......

....4-3. We can't blow a two-goal lead in under two minutes, can we?

WE CAN!!!! Never doubt kids, never doubt, not this year anyway. Not even watching the game we knew what would happen. So the always lovely Natalie breaks out this squarish piece of candy. It states on the clear wrapper it's called "Jelly Nougat", but what it probably ACTUALLY was is a small brick of caulk. She's eating it and asks me if I'd like a bite. Suspect, yes, but I'm brave. I say yes and take a small bite....

The first thing I can think of upon tasting this rejected tube of JB Weld or whatever the fuck it was is of course the first thing I say, as I sometimes have no verbal filter - "This tastes like a glued up dick hole".

What I MEANT was caulk because that's what it looked and actually tasted like, but I think this was WAY funnier. It tasted worse than a bukkake sandwich. And it's also a lovely metaphor for the game itself! Immediately after the game was over we see the highlights pop up on NHL Network. Hmmmmmm. Interesting.

So blog land will tell us soon enough how truly shiteous this loss was. Describe it in detail for us, folks, because without having seen it, it SEEMS like this game was a shitshow.

Nat has a great Wednesday question in store for you, but my initial thought this evening: This is probably the second or third most frustrating Wings squad to watch in my lifetime. Thoughts? The cup is for closers, as A2Y so eloquently put it (forgive me if I'm incorrectly attributing that quote). This team isn't that, at least not right now.

Return to KRONWORLD.

Two days = massive eternity. No, seriously. I'm not joking on this one. We take a couple days off from the old McBlogster, and so many awesome things occurred in the interim:

1. We found out that Niklas Kronwall returns to the lineup...TONIGHT, against Phoenix.

2. As previously reported, Tomas Holmstrom says he may return to the lineup on Friday against the Predators. If this is true, I Can't. Fucking. Wait. (Is anybody else as seriously stoked as we are to have a Friday game to watch instead of a Saturday game? It gives us something to do other than go to sleep at 10 p.m.)

3. Somebody with the most kickass handle ever, DatsyukianGeek, started following us on Twitter. I could not stop thinking about this all weekend.

We also missed recapping the game against the Kings on Saturday, although, unfortunately, we did not miss the suckass game altogether. Can I take a five and talk to you guys for a second? TSO--both of us--had a particularly chaotic week with our jobs and whatnot, so we went underground for the weekend by literally running away. Before you get all worried and commence sending us greeting cards of your own, we're ok. Actually, last week resulted in some pretty good news for me, in the form of a "promotion" (best way to describe it--more money + more hours + more responsibilities) and the hiring of a new employee I'll get to menace. I'm greatly looking forward to it. I'm considering conducting my own interview, just to see if we hit it off. Here, let me run a question by you guys:

Question: Imagine a person enters our workplace, acts a fool, and then departs. Upon said person's departure, I make a killer sarcastic remark. Your reaction:

A. Laugh along appreciatively.

B. Quickly retort with your own snarky statement, thereby one-upping me and becoming my brand-new BFF and de facto soulmate.

C. Chuckle slightly, only because you're a consummate professional, but later give me an exploding fist bump to celebrate my awesomeness.

D. Scold me for my obvious lack of professionalism.

E. Burst into tears because you've never been able to grasp sarcasm. (Note: I do not believe in tears, so I will not offer you a Kleenex.)

I think it's a good barometer, don't you?

Anyway, as previously mentioned, the Wings take on the Coyotes tonight, and, as also previously mentioned, Nik Jr. comes back with a vengeance tonight. Now, if any of you read my comments on here--no, really, you all don't need to raise your hands at once--you may have noticed that I promised one of our readers, Dena, a surprise upon Kronwall's return. You see, Dena, as well as one of our anonymous commenters, has a lovesick, almost actually sick, obsession with #55, and, as you all know, we love to celebrate obsessions and fanatics of all kinds here at TSO. See, others would possibly consider putting them on a reality show or sending her to love rehab (Dr. Drew's available, right?), but over here, we place passionate fans like them on a pedestal. I mean, it's not as if I haven't been caught peering into the window of #96's home. Without further adieu, here goes:

Hey, look, I made a collage without the use of "chickenpox" (my feeble attempt at recreating freckles, as Brian is a freckleface. I'm glad the person who commented that it was chickenpox didn't guess herpes, though. I mean, I would have found it funny, but I'm not sure Brian would have enjoyed being known around the internets as Herpesface. And I definitely wouldn't want to be known as girlfriend of Herpesface. Wait, hearing that in my head just now did make me giggle...)

I have no idea what Dena or the anonymous commenter look like, so I just made them both Smurfs. Hope neither of you mind. Also, you guys have the longest torsos ever. Does that mean you're constantly looking for tunics or muumuus to wear since regular shirts are virtually impossible? On a positive note, can I just say that those shades of lipstick look fabulous on the two of you? Hope you ladies have the time of your lives watching the game tonight.

So that's what's up. The puck drops at 7 p.m. tonight. Alas, we won't be watching it. (Bitchface Versus.) However, you may be treated to one of Brian's fabulous "Recap of a game I didn't watch" recaps. Or you could just go to a blog with standards and consistency. In any event, let's go, Wings!

Wings poach Coyotes, 3-2.

Aaaaaaaa-oooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwww! (Best. Coyote. Impression. Ever.)

Everybody else has already written kickass recaps, and I'm a little rusty at doing this without a massive hangover or via phone after a game, so I'll give it the old college try here, but I'm going to keep it short and sweet:

What stood out for me about the game? Well, considering Brian and I missed the first period, and we showed up during first intermission to discover the score was 2-1, my initial impression was that I was happy the team had generated some early offense for the summary sheet. It's always better to get it done early rather than scramble to catch up in the third period, which--SIGH--our beloved Wings are so prone to doing these days.

Then, I learned that Kris Newbury scored the first goal, after only approximately five-and-a-half minutes. Thought about it. Considered dubbing it the best news I'd ever heard. Also considered dubbing it the worst. Settled on "best-SLASH-worst news". I think that adequately covers it, and any Wings' fan will concur.

Was very, very happy to see Patrick Eaves's shorthanded goal. This guy shows great promise; I like the way he has worked with his various linemates during this injury-riddled season. He hasn't lost his drive or talent by getting bogged down in a rut, unlike several of our veterans left standing.

Then, we watched the replay of Jonathan Ericsson's knee injury. This, combined with the news of Darren Helm's wrist injury earlier in the day, was too much. I'm not even going to expound upon this. I don't have the heart.

The most positive thing I take away from this game is as follows:

Our penalty kill has been rocking balls out lately. Yesterday, Mickey Redmond mentioned that the PK has been successful 30 of the last 31 times. In fact, the most recent power play goal scored by an opponent was Nashville's first goal of the game on Saturday. If we can remember wayyyyy back to last spring during the playoffs, when we were all scratching our heads and wondering how the PK could possibly be so shitty, this statistic should make us feel pretty damn good.

That's all I got for now. Most half-hearted attempt at a recap ever, I know. Will get back in the swing of things with GONADS-AND-THE-LIGHTNING on Thursday!

Also, for your viewing pleasure, here's a link to our Detroit Adventures photo album on Flickr. I don't claim to be a photographer by any stretch, but we did make a point to take photos of everything ever downtown so I can remember them when I'm senile (which is scheduled to occur in 30 days or so...the state will be paying Brian to take care of me. Er, I won't ruin the surprise. Just wait for it.). Anyway, if you're interested, click here.

B.S. -- Part 2

Actually, I did feel like writing a little bit more:

It is so fucking frustrating to watch the Wings dominate the play throughout the first part of the game, only to lose the game in the end. Play throughout the game was solid and consistent; Datsyuk, Zetterberg, Filppula, Osgood, Leino--they all had great nights. Hell, even Brett Lebda scored a goal.

But toward the middle of the third period, when they were up only by a goal, the Wings switched from maintaining a strong offensive presence to facing down the Coyotes in their own zone and struggling to clear the puck; it would have been great if there had been a cushion separating the two teams. With each rush, the Coyotes inched closer and closer to having a solid scoring chance, and the Wings struggled to barely get it out of their zone, until finally, the bullshit goal resulting from a pileup on Chris Osgood happened.

And THAT'S frustrating.

I write this because I don't want to blame the entire thing on the bullshit that I believe should have been considered goaltender interference. Rather, just like losing in OT in general--it sucks ass, without a doubt, but you shouldn't have put yourself there in the first place.

So, that's why I'm so pissed off right now.

As a postscript, I don't even want to talk about the GWG in OT. Yeah, it totally and completely sucked ass, but that's like saying the sky is blue.

Couldn't have said it better myself.

"This is bullshit. Do your fucking job."

--Mike Babcock to a ref after the goalie interference call that totally WASN'T called on the Coyotes' goal with 2:40 left in the 3rd, tying the game at 2-2

***

Wings lose in OT, 3-2.

***

Bleh.

***

That's all. Don't feel like writing any more right now.

Pasha to return!

Per Ansar Kahn, Pavel Datsyuk will be on the ice tonight against the Phoenix Coyotes.

If this doesn't put a smile on your face, you are soulless and heartless, and I don't like you:

“I not score before the injury, I hope so I can score,'' Datsyuk said. “I have always slow start. I don’t know why, but I keep going, keep going, never stop.’"

He's scoring a goal tonight. I can feel it. In my loins.

Wings in Phoenix tonight.

...which means the game doesn't start until 10 p.m. Eastern time. Hockeytown Static echoes my sentiments entirely when it comes to late games blowing ass.

I would talk about how the Wings are so awesome and are definitely going to beat the Phoenix Coyotes, blah, blah, blah, but Phoenix is off to a surprisingly impressive start, a la Colorado. Sigh. I can't believe I just had to type that...about Phoenix. I think a part of me just died.

Here are some things to look forward to tonight:

1. The return of Pavel Datsyuk--not a definite, but a maybe, which is good enough for me at this point. Whenever Pasha is injured and doesn't play, it always feels like light years pass until his return. Maybe it would help to pass the time if I didn't busy myself in the interim by lighting myself on fire.



2. It's just...time for the Wings' luck to turn around. I don't know. Fuck it. They're winning. Big time. I just said it. And you can't stop me.

***

On a semi-related note, did you guys hear about the coyote that got run over by a car, and the people in the car (a brother and a sister) didn't realize the coyote was ALIVE AND STUCK INSIDE THE GRILL OF THE CAR until 600 miles later?! Seriously. That's some crazy shit. Can you imagine how this conversation went? No? I can.

[Bump]

Driver: Uh-oh, I think we hit something. It looked like a dog or a coyote or a dingo or a hobbit or something, but I'm really not sure. [Glances in rearview mirror.] I don't see it anywhere on the road behind us, and my car is steering kinda funny, plus I hear some howling that doesn't seem to be coming from the radio, as I'm not rocking out to "Werewolves of London" (yet), but I'm going to go ahead and make an executive decision. Onward we go!

[200 miles later.]

Passenger [waking up from a nap]: Are we there yet?

Driver: No.

Passenger: Hey, do you smell something weird? It smells kinda like something dead--

Driver: Shhh, shhh, go back to sleep.

[400 miles later.]

Driver [getting out of car]: We're here!

Passenger: Finally. I swear, this car felt so weird for most of this trip.

Driver [lifting hood]: Oh, it probably just needs an oil change. Let me check--HOLY FUCK ON A STICK!!!!!! How did this get here?!

Coyote [shaken, yet characteristically snarky]: Oh, I was hired by the Arizona State Highway Patrol to work as a courtesy technician; I was just tightening up your lugnuts. How in the fuck did you think I got here, asshat?

The bottom line? I can't decide whether these people are incorrigibly badass or hopelessly moronic. Maybe a little of both?

***

The Triple Deke has an awesome post pointing it out the stupidity and falsehoods associated with the argument that productivity on the ice always = points scored. It's a response to ESPN's John BucciGROSS's statement that Pavel Datsyuk and Henrik Zetterberg are past their "prime". Yeah. After you're done choking on your own bile and screaming obsenities, check it out here.

***

That's it for now. As always, GO WINGS.