So, PGH is the city of champions . . . We’ve got the cup, we’ve got the ring, and we have a baseball team. In any normal sort of universe outside of the ‘Burgh, I could give a shit. Somehow this town has infected me with this whole caring about sports thing. I should have known something was wrong starting a couple of years ago when I found myself enjoying a beer in the afternoon. I never cared for beer until I got here, and I never cared for sports either. But somehow last night I find myself at one of my local watering holes for the sole purpose of WATCHING A MAJOR SPORTING EVENT. I cannot stress how weird that was for me. I have to cash in my chips and admit that on some level I am a sports fan. What the fuck happened to me?
Anyhoo, the Pens won the Stanley Cup in the first game seven win of any sport since 1979. (Hey Ma! Look at me. I know sports trivia too . . .) That of course means hoards of crazed fans with penguins on their heads running down the street yelling at the top of their lungs while setting of fireworks in close proximity to trees and people and dry wooden buildings that are over a century old. It’s a miracle that this town isn’t constantly burning like a tire fire. I unfortunately didn’t have a camera on me, so no photos this time. I promise to be on my game for the next big event in town. Bring on the protests, and send in the clowns!