I was talking to my mama on the phone last night. The conversation went something like this:
Mom: Should we be worried?
Me: Did you see the last game?
Me: Were they shooting the puck?
Me: Well, if they weren't shooting, I wouldn't worry because that means they can start trying. If they're shooting, that means the puck isn't getting past Rinne.
Mom: They're shooting. Are you worried.
Me: If they're shooting, I'm worried.
Mom: Oh, then I'm worried.
Dear Red Wings,
My Mama is worried. Please don't make her sad. Please score lots of goals more than Nashville does and win the game.