The Stanley Cup Finals 2011
There are no boundaries when it comes to Hockey in North America. Hence, this is where NHL comes in. Even though the sport is not well known in this subcontinent, it has a massive following elsewhere. Therefore, when the Holy Grail of the sport itself is on offer, emotions are expected to soar. This year's Stanley Cup Finals was no different. The Stanley Cup playoffs can now be remembered as having the most never-wracking, breathtaking and outrageous moments in the pages of history.
Game 1 came to a great start, leading with Raffi Torres's goal within 18.5 seconds left in regulation time. It broke a scoreless tie to give the Canucks the victory in Game 1. The entire game was seen as a duel between the two opposing goaltenders - both Vancouver's Roberto Luongo and Boston's Tim Thomas were Vezina Trophy finalists for the 2010-11 season. Both teams killed off all penalties in the game, including a 5-on-3 Boston had in the second period, and a double minor high-sticking penalty called on Vancouver's Daniel Sedin in the first.
In the second-fastest overtime in Stanley Cup Final history, Alexandre Burrows scored 11 seconds into the first overtime to give Vancouver a 3-2 win in Game 2.
Boston scored 4 goals in the second period, and another 4 goals in the third, which resulted in an 8-1 rout in Game 3; winning back their pride at the TD Garden in Boston.
Tim Thomas made 38 saves and Rich Peverley scored two goals as Boston shut out Vancouver 4-0 to even the series.
Maxim Lapierre scored the game's only goal to give Vancouver a 3-2 series lead. This was the second 1-0 victory for Vancouver in the Finals; Game 1 ended with the same score.
In Game 6, Boston defeated Vancouver, 5-2, to force a deciding Game 7, the 16th in Finals history.
However, Boston shut out Vancouver 4-0 in the decisive Game 7 on the road to winning the Stanley Cup. The misery for the Vancouver Canucks and their fans continued with another near miss in their 40th season.
Moments after the 4-0 loss to the Boston Bruins in Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final, the frustration and disappointment turned to anger and violence. Only a few blocks from Rogers Arena, cars were overturned, several fires were set, store windows were smashed and people clashed with police as a riot ensued in downtown Vancouver on Monday evening. What was supposed to be a party in Vancouver turned into utter chaos after the Canucks came up with another clunker in the seventh and deciding game. They were unable to continue the trend of the home team winning each game. Even though Hockey is one of Canada's prides, it is unacceptable to see citizens cause distress in the city, especially since Vancouver ranks as one of the most peaceful cities in the world.
Source: The Internet
Last week, our topic was Rinse and Repeat. The piece below was different from most of the bleak entries we received, at least initially, and the writer executed the story well. For next week, our topic will be: Catapult. We're hoping for something funny this week. Humour us. Submissions have to be sent in to firstname.lastname@example.org by Sunday noon.
Rinse and Repeat
By Shadman Iqbal
He was out. For his morning stroll. Designer shades glared blindingly in the sun and brand new sneakers scrunched expensively on dry asphalt. His skin-tight Hawaiian shirt, half unbuttoned, flaunted rock hard chest and bulging biceps that rippled rhythmically with each step. Its dazzling rainbow hues and floral print turned everyone and everything within a two mile radius bleak in contrast. Inside a pocket of his shorts, which were a vivid, eye-watering red, a sleek smart-phone blared the latest Dhaliwood hit. He sang along, stentorian voice rivalling the screeching crows as his ever watchful eyes scanned the road for telltale signs.
And within seconds, there it was. Terrorised overgrown girl in school uniform; short, dark, obese villain exploding into occasional fits of maniacal laughter and his even darker simian goons struggling hard to time theirs with his. Just ten yards from where he stood. He pulled his sunglasses up to his hairline and frowned.
It was so strangely familiar, like he'd been here before. But there was no time to waste thinking. Two frontflips, one backflip and a cartwheel later, his twenty inch biceps blocked the view of the villain's ogling eyes. Ritual corny dialogues were exchanged before he unleashed a flamboyant array of slow motion Kung-Fu high kicks, roundhouses and absolutely pointless somersaults.
And after several minutes of rigorously desecrating Newton's laws, the villain and his goons found themselves running towards the horizon screaming promises of vengeance to thin air. Our hero stood, facing their retreating silhouettes, while his still perfect hairstyle fluttered in the wind. Then, without so much as a backward glance, he walked on, leaving in his wake the smouldering debris of shattered hearts and goo-goo eyes. He was simply doing his job.
The tinkling crash of breaking china brought the boy back, to a bitter, less forgiving reality. Of unfinished work, hungry eyes and a family to support. He glanced over his shoulder, to where the greasy balding head, bent greedily over the cash till was too distracted to notice, and sighed in relief. Cursing under his breath, he quickly disposed of the mess before it attracted any unwanted attention. And he turned to the sink, where a towering pile of unwashed dishes silently awaited his attention. He sighed deeply and returned to work. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. That was the mantra to bringing food on the table.
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