NHL: So, I'm an Off Season Penguins Fan, What Do I Do Now?

This week, for the first time in over 8 months, hockey fans will awake each and every morning knowing that there is no hockey to be played around the NHL that night.

It can be a stunning feeling, but what do you do? Well, in all honesty, there's not much you can do.

This is the day in the life of an off season fan of the Pittsburgh Penguins...

6:50 AM- The alarm switches on, blaring "Purple Rain" directly into my ear. I hit the snooze button and fall back asleep.

6:53- I have one of those weird dreams that people have after they have woken up, but then fall back to sleep. I can see Gary Roberts. He is walking toward me, holding a bottle of FIJI Water. Bob Errey is commentating the whole thing... "Look at Scaaary Gaaary, look at the FIJI, he loves the FIJI water, Steigy."

6:54- I lift Mr. Roberts' water bottle to my mouth, only to be interrupted by that annoying beeping sound of my alarm clock after the snooze expires.

6:55- I drag myself out of bed, pat the WWGRD sign above my bedroom door, and head for the shower.

6:58- The water in the shower brings about some kind of fond memory, but I can't seem to put a handle on it. Doesn't that just bug the hell out of you?

7:05- I reach for a towel outside of the shower, and feel a tickle on my index finger. I pull it back inside the curtain and realize that it's a bug. A bug? A Bugsy? A Bugsy Malone. A Ryan Bugsy Malone.

7:06- I completely forget that I have to be at work in less than 25 minutes and my thoughts are consumed with the looming contract negotiation of Pittsburgh's own Ryan Malone.

7:10- I snap out of it, reluctantly settling with myself that Bugsy will never leave the 'Burgh.

7:11- As I'm brushing my teeth, I can't help but wonder who invented toothpaste. Maybe it was some crazy Russian dude. That just gets me thinking about Gino and Sarge. Maybe they're hitting the links together today. Maybe Malkin is doing some yard work for his landlord.

7:15- That "man, I gotta be at work in 15 minutes" feeling hits me and I realize that I have to get focused.

7:17- While eating a quick bowl of cereal, the Today Show is on the tube in my kitchen. Apparently people somewhere were protesting something. They showed the live crowd. The crowd, wielding their signs, suddenly began a chant when they realized they were on camera. "GO HOME F..." I rocketed out of my seat and finished the crowd's chant with a whooping "LYERS." Once I regained my wits, I realized that the crowd on TV was not a sea of 17,000 Penguin fans uniting in victory, but rather just a bunch of pissed off people. But, man did that feel good.

7:18- My dad comes up the basement steps and just looks at me like "why are you yelling at 7 in the morning, and why are you watching the Today Show?"

7:20- I jump in the car to head off to work. I'm running behind schedule, as usual, but a particular old-person-colored Buick is really holding me back.

7:24- I'm finally able to work my way around the Buick lady while doing my best Mike Lange impression by mouthing, "Get in the fast land, grandma, the bingo game's ready to roll," as I pass her.

7:31- I arrive at work, surprisingly only a minute late.

7:32- I'm greeted by the boss who asks, "Eric, what's new?" I immediately want to tell him that the CBC had a quote from Gary Roberts that seemed to diminish the possibility of his retirement, that Hossa is emphasizing Cup over cash, and that Orpik has a great working relationship with his coaches, but I figure a simple "eh, not much" will suffice.

9:18- A coworker drops something over the guardrail from the top floor and yells, "Ho!" as a warning sign to those below. Another coworker, a fellow Pens fan, covers his mouth with his hand and does his best John Barbero impression when he says, "Pittsburgh goal his fifth of the playoffs and second of the game, scored by number 18, Marian Hoooooooooooossa." I hold back the urge to pump my fist above my head, and we both get back to work.

10:47- A coworker asks the group which CD he should play next. Someone yells out "U2." I can't contain myself anymore and don't hold back on my urge to bellow out a "Ruuuuuuuuuuuutuuuuuuuu" across the work area.

10:48- A coworker asks if I "really miss hockey that much already?" I respond with, "Miss, what do you mean miss? I thought something had to die or go away before you could miss it. Hockey doesn't go away. Offseason or not, I am a Penguin fan. That's not just a title, it's a way of life."

10:49- Said coworker utters, "Shutup and go back to work, joke." I respond with, "You borrowed that line from your wife didn't you?" The conversation abruptly ends.

10:53- Pens fan coworker informs me that coworker above was born and raised in Philadelphia.

10:54- I proceed to make various "Orange Crush, isn't that a soda?" jokes followed by questioning him as to whether the Flyers plan to hand out syrup to go along with their French Toast goaltender next season.

11:00- The jobbing comes to an abrupt end, as it's time for a meeting before lunch.

11:26- The joke running the meaning mentions the word "teamwork." My mind immediately starts racing. Pictures of Fleury toppling over, injuring his ankle on the West Coast trip, are followed by images of Ty Conklin stoning Daniel Briere in the Winter Classic. The numbers 17, 71, 12 come together in a perfect line, engraved in the beam of steel I am picturing in my head. What a great idea for a fan giveaway...

11:30- Someone elbows me, signaling the meeting is over and it's time for lunch.

12:23 PM- While eating lunch, one of my buddies starts talking about the new house he is currently furnishing. "I oughta get a broom for the garage, huh", he asks me. Oughta... broom... sweep... the first round sweep of the Ottawa Senators... "Yeah, sure, Mike, broom sounds good man" is all I can come up with in reply.

12:30- Lunch is over, just two hours left, I can do this. Hmm, that notion sounds surprisingly familiar. Just two more wins to go, two more is all. Two wins and we are hoisting Lord Stanley's Cup.

12:33- I realize that unlike the Penguins I actually have no choice than to finish out my two hours of work. I proceed on, working alone, trying to stay focused on what I'm supposed to be doing.

2:30- Finally, quitting time.

2:32- On the way to my car, someone calls out, "Yo, you playin' pokah tanight?" Poker, how can I focus on cards? I can't get hockey out of my head. And did he just say yo? As in Mike Yeo, assistant coach for the Penguins. Man, I'm in too deep. "Sorry, man, I gotta cut the grass, maybe tomarrah."

2:33- I hop in the car, anxious to just get home and crash on the couch, maybe play some video games. I wonder if Crosby and Staal are sitting around playing video games right now? I mean, geeze, those guys are younger than I am. I can't even imagine...

2:44- I make the last turn onto my road, honking as I pass my neighbor's "Honk for Hossa" homemade sign in the front yard. Jim is 84 years old, and he told me he waits for that honk every afternoon while he's sitting on his back porch.

3:30- The phone rings, it's my girlfriend. "Hey, what are you eatin' tonight?" "Eaton, Mark Eaton, he's been hurt all season, he's a liability, the Pens need to move him. No doubt he's a great defenseman, but he's missed 60+ games the past two seasons because of injur..."
"ERIC! STOP! What are you eating for dinner?"
"Sorry babe, I have some pizza from the other night, so I'm good."
"Okay, geeze, bye."
"Man, somebody's got a hook in their gills, their Hal Gills!" (click)

3:36- I realize I deserved that hang up.

Somewhere around 4:00, I fell asleep. I wish I could dazzle all of you with dreams of skating on a line with Lemieux and Kevin Stevens, but I can't remember what I dreamed about.

7:38- I wake up, glance at the clock, and feel an empty feeling in my stomach. It could be because I only had three pieces of pizza left, or it could be because I realize that at this very moment I could be watching them drop the puck at Mellon Arena for another 60 minutes of Penguins hockey.

7:40- After the stunned feeling wears off, I decide to flick on the TV. As usual there are 15 baseball games, 12 sitcoms, nine game shows, and five news programs dominating the airwaves. ESPN is showing a beach volleyball tournament... I should have went back to sleep.

I job around for the next two hours, then decide to sit down at my computer.

10:15- I start to write this article. The feeling I have can't really be put into words. I'm a die-hard hockey fan, have been since I was old enough to understand the game. The off season is the truest test of a fans' dedication to their team. It seems like years before the puck will drop for the first preseason game. One can only bear so many grueling innings of Pirates baseball.

On the bright side of things, no matter how much I try to avoid it, thinking about the Pittsburgh Penguins has become second nature to me. Call it obsessive, call it crazy, call it weird, call it whatever you want to call it, but I just can't get hockey off my mind.

It may be the combination of the best Penguins' season since 1992 and knowing that there are so many uncertainties surrounding this off season that has my mind set on what will happen next.

Regardless of the reasoning, I can't seem to shake hockey from my mind. September seems like it's forever away, but I know that somehow it will be here before we know it.

Until then, all that's left to do is keep uttering "Let's Go Pens" while playing NHL 08 on PS2, and keep tapping that WWGRD sign above the door every morning, hoping that Gary will give us just one more season.