A Less Perfect Union

Screw the racist mascots. Screw their inflated power play statistics. This team lost to Colgate. COLGATE IS A TOOTHPASTE. Do you know what that means? UNION IS A CAVITY. Or at least some plaque. A germ to be eradicated. A waste of jersey fabric.

I hate single elimination. It's so stressful. For me. And thus for all of you, feeling my stress wavelengths vibrating out into the universe like cosmic strings.

Let's calm ourselves with some great speeches, shall we? Tonight's selection comes from a formidable Bulldogs fan, Queen Elizabeth I.

My loving Bulldogs fans, we have been persuaded by some, that are careful of our safety, to take heed how we commit ourselves to armed multitudes, for fear of treachery; but I assure you, I do not desire to live to distrust my faithful and loving Bulldogs. Let tyrants fear; I have always so behaved myself that, under God, I have placed my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good will of my Bulldogs. And therefore I am come amongst you at this time, not as for my recreation or sport, but being resolved, in the midst and heat of the battle, to live or die amongst you all; to lay down, for my Dogs, and for my arena, and for my blog readers, my honor and my blood, even the dust. I know I have but the body of a weak and feeble woman; but I have the heart of a king, and of a king of Hockey, too; and think foul scorn that Union or Yale, or any cadet of Air Force, should dare to invade the borders of my blue line: to which, rather than any dishonor should grow by me, I myself will take up arms; I myself will be your general, judge, and rewarder of every one of your virtues on the ice. I know already, by your forwardness, that you have deserved rewards and crowns; and we do assure you, on the word of a prince, they shall be duly paid you. In the mean my lieutenant Sandelin shall be in my stead, than whom never prince commanded more noble and worthy Bulldogs; not doubting by your obedience to my general, by your concord in the camp, and by your valor on the ice, we shall shortly have a famous victory over the enemies of my Dogs, of my arena, and of my blog readers.

Please just win and I can die from an aneurysm of joy rather than an aneurysm of anguish.