These Penguins have been stricken by every sickness, ailment and injury known to man the past few months, from a hole in Kris Letang's heart to a blood clot in Pascal Dupuis' lung to a cancerous gland in Olli Maatta's neck to all the usual bumps and breaks and fractured feet to ... what, mumps for Sidney Crosby?
What next, Captain Ahab, a revival for rubella, rickets, scurvy and beriberi?
Or worse, perish the thought, a loss to Calgary?
Well, at least that was avoided: Penguins 3, Flames 1
And please, spare me the visitors' 17-11-2 record coming into Consol Energy Center on Friday. The Flames are as phony as phony gets, and it's only starting to show with a four-game losing streak, zero firepower up front and even less depth. They're still the Flames until further notice.
At the same time, of infinitely greater local concern, the Penguins are still the Penguins. Even with all the misfortune that seems to befall them pretty much daily at this point.
"We play together, and we play hard," Simon Despres was saying after playing as hard as anyone on this night. "When you do that, you can make up for guys who might not be able to go."
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