A performance that would make Jaro say "Anderson yo so gret golie you beet fat Cari wale so fat Cari big to the ass Cari all gols in behind to his net Cari". That's how good Anderson was. That's how bad Carey was.
Then Eller took a page ut of the Zednik's and Pacioretty's of this world.
I've seen all those hits live and every time i can tell you the life in the building is just instantly sucked out from the ventilation systems. The game means little. A life appears to be on the line and you just wait for a sign of hope to hang on to. With twitter fans were scrambling to their feeds to get morsels of information that would reassure them on Eller's status.
61 only meant something in baseball until Thursday night.
But the walrus gave it entirely new meaning in a classless display of do whatever it takes to win.
Brendan Prust to exception. So did coach Therrien. So did the PK'ISTS.
It was a despicable performance by MacLean - he was as poor as his players were on that night - save for the surreal Anderson.
Fast forward 22 hours.
An entire line is wiped out - as Kevin Spacy would say - and just like that, it's gone.
Eller, Gionta, Pacioretty.
Heartbreak after throwing 50 at Andy. Another horrendous showing by a deflating Price.
This series was over.
It really wasn't.
Again, the Habs took it to the Sens and for a moment it looked as if they would hit 50 again.
They didn't need 50. They played hard, they played patiently. And they took the game - just like that. Carey dug deep. White played the game of his career and the Walrus took a back seat to a better team defeating his squad.
Because the Habs are the better team. They just need to have the better goalie.
Here we are. Game 3.