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So here we are, Tuesday night, Ball Arena, National Hockey League—except instead o’ skatin’ on ice, dese guys are hittin’ dingers like it’s Wrigley Field in da middle o’ July. And lemme tell ya, dis time, da Blackhawks romp.
First off—you got Klompus. Dis guy. Back-to-back nights, he hits for da cycle. Dat’s right—two days in a row. Single, double, triple, homer… bada bing, bada boom, order a Polish with extra kraut. Only thing missin’ was Ditka himself joggin’ out to third base to give him a handshake.
But it wasn’t just Klompus. Ron freakin’ Hextall—da goalie from da Flyers, yeah dat guy—apparently now he’s da shortstop? He smacks two bombs, seven RBIs, five hits. If dis keeps up, we’re gonna hafta retire his jersey at Soldier Field, never mind da United Center.
Bedard? Grand slam in da first. Boom. Three more later. Hextall, Sanchez, Trevino, even da guy sellin’ peanuts probably had a couple o’ ribbies. By da end o’ it, da scoreboard looked like da counter at Superdawg after a Bears-Packers game: thirty to eighteen.
Colorado? Eh, they tried. Jorge Sanchez hit four taters, Nate MacKinnon had some hits, but c’mon—when da other guys put up thirty runs, you pack it in, order an Italian beef, and go home.
So now, da series is 3-1 Hawks. Game 5 back in Chicago. At dis point, da only thing standin’ between da Hawks and da Conference Finals is altitude sickness from playin’ in Denver, and maybe Ditka eatin’ too many Polish sausages before first pitch.
Final thought: Klompus for Mayor. Ditka for Governor. And da Hawks? Dey’re marchin’ on.
Prediction: Hawks in five. Score: Hawks 87, Avalanche negative 3.
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