While I watched the early stages of last night’s Penguins game on the TV at Wright’s Gym, a member joined me at the front desk to catch some of the action. As we began to chew the fat over our favorite hockey team, he voiced his concerns over Sidney Crosby and his apparent difficulty in finding the back of the net. He wondered if Sid’s wrist surgery had robbed him of his shot. I concurred.
Apparently, our exchange provided all the reverse PenguinPoop mojo needed to free Sid from whatever malaise was ailing him.