Playoff hockey > dating.

The Stanley Cup playoffs start tonight, thus beginning my favorite time of the year. And because the time since I’ve last been on a date is getting dangerously close to a depressingly long time ago, the most satisfying relationship in my life these days is with these guys.

In fact, my relationship with the Pens has been the longest, steadiest, and most satisfying relationship of my entire life. I loved these guys in elementary school. I drove to Pittsburgh to buy student rush tickets all through high school. And during one otherwise awful school year in Massachusetts, I found sanctuary in my Center Ice package each night. And so I present to you my reasons why the playoffs are better than dating:

Because let’s face it, I’ll never date anyone as sexy as Kris Letang, but I can at least watch the sexhair play hockey on a nightly basis.

Because even when they disappoint me, I know they’ll be back next year and I will have legitimate hope that they won’t do it again.

Because my team is mine, and no one can take them from me. I don’t associate them with anyone else, and therefore they’ll never be tarnished, because I’ll probably have to teach whoever I date about hockey.

Because Labatts and Molsons taste better when there’s hockey on TV.

Because a man will probably never fist fight for my honor, but these guys will fight for the honor of their team and my city every single night.

Because of playoff beards. If your boyfriend or husband grows a beard, it’s annoying. It’s all scratchy. But on hockey players, they are hot, because they are badges of honor, and you don’t ever have to touch them.

Because they can go all night long… In overtime, silly. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Drop the puck already. Let’s go Pens.


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