For the second straight year, the Philadelphia Flyers rolled into the United Center, laid down on their back for a belly rub, urinated a little on the floor, and quickly beat it back to the bus. This was a slight improvement, they didn’t give up seven this time.
It was no surprise that the Hawks, wanting to avoid the prolonged whiskey dick (redundant?) that the previous two games turned into, came out flying even faster and more frantically in this one hoping to put it away early. That’s exactly what they did. All it took was a brilliant rush from the third line, a power play, and then another rush from the third line, and this one was half in the bag. In a good way, not in the way we usually use that phrase. Or like Killion is now.
