I’m not usually one to point fingers at the officials at any given time in a playoff series. The game is chaotic, and the officiating reflects a dynamic environment–which is a polite way of saying that the officiating is usually pretty terrible for everyone. Until the time the league gets its head out of its ass and seriously considers implementing a coach’s challenge or tells officials they are empowered and encouraged to review more than just goals, we’re going to end up with missed penalties or a flagrantly disproportionate number of calls. Ottawa’s been the beneficiary before, including Zibanejad’s borderline kicked-in goal against Montreal in the first round. That could have gone either way.

Generally, I accept this. It’s as if at random times during the game they release a live panther onto the ice, and it could maul anyone. Penalties are handed out with frustratingly opaque logic. Trying to fix it is tantamount to trying to fix a fundamental randomness in the universe. I’d rather buckle up and enjoy the ride, hoping that my favorite team comes out on top.

Up until now, I have also accepted some truth to the notion that the more penalized team is more penalized because they’re usually the less skilled / slower team and thus are more likely to find themselves resorting to clutching and grabbing, interference, or roughing in order to level the playing field. After the first round win in Montreal, it must have been especially clear that Ottawa’s game against skilled teams is to play on the edge. Ottawa is living firmly in that grey zone, the place where teams with generational skill and league max salaries don’t have to go.

Last night I thought to myself that Ottawa’s game plan has become exceedingly clear to both the Pens and the officials. The Pens have the skill to just wait everything out; they might lose the odd game, but they don’t need to get creative to win a series. Their veterans are being patient, and Cooke is going about his business. It’s almost as if they’re already thinking about Boston. Meanwhile, Ottawa has to get its hands dirty to have a chance in this series, and the officials know it. We’re getting sun burnt by their spotlight right now. But is that really an excuse?

Ottawa is the most penalized team in the 2013 playoffs, having found themselves shorthanded 40 times in just nine games, or 4.44 per game. Last year’s most penalized team in the playoffs was the New Jersey Devils, with 82 penalties in 24 games. That’s 3.42 penalties per game, a full penalty less. In 2010-2011 it was Vancouver with 3.96 per game. Philadelphia was the most penalized the two years before that, but they weren’t even close. I had to go all the way back to 2007-2008 to find another team as penalized as Ottawa this year–Detroit had 98 in 22, or 4.45 penalties per game that year. Before that was Anaheim, with a staggering 5.76 per game. There are other teams with slightly higher penalties-per-game averages (Nashville in 2006-2007), but their early exits couldn’t be blamed on penalties (Nashville had a 93.3% PK that year and lost in the first round in five.)

(note: for this I’m looking at “times shorthanded” on nhl.com, not necessarily total penalty minutes.)

What does this mean? Well, surprisingly, far from the most penalized teams being the worst / most overmatched, in recent years the most penalized teams have gone the furthest or won it all. New Jersey, Vancouver and Philly made the Finals. Detroit and Anaheim won the Cup. This seems to imply that being very penalized in the playoffs doesn’t necessarily lead to an unfair loss, or that these teams were so good that they could overcome the excessive burden of being on the PK so much.

For Ottawa, maybe this means we can’t blame penalties for our losses, either because they don’t impact the game that much or because we’re legitimately not as good as the contending teams of years past, who could take those penalties in stride.

You could point to penalties last night, but they don’t tell the whole story. In what amounts to a must-win game, on home ice, with all of the momentum on their side, Ottawa takes a minor penalty 1:12 in. This was blatant interference by Sergei Gonchar, one of the team’s key veterans, who found himself out of position and took the body on James Neal rather than give him a lane to the net. Far from that being Gonchar’s biggest sin in a game where he finished -4, Michalek actually scored shorthanded on the ensuing PK. Gonchar’s lack of toughness was a much bigger problem, and was particularly evident on Dupuis’ shorthanded goal, when Gonchar had him in front of the net and Dupuis’ easily got his shot away anyway. I don’t know if Gonchar was trying to avoid a penalty, but if so, that fear burnt him and the team.

Later, players like Smith, Greening, Zibanejad and Neil, whose games involve at least an element of physical toughness and agitation, could be seen obviously pulling back, not taking the body, trying to play the Penguins at their own game. At this point they have no idea if playing tough means going back to the penalty box. And instead of being unafraid of that and sticking to their game plan, Ottawa has been thoroughly thrown off; if Ottawa has any hope of getting back in this series, they need to get back to their I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude. If it means taking a penalty, then so be it.

The officials didn’t give this game to the Pens–Ottawa was up 2-1 and gave the Pens a breakaway one minute into the second period, then Anderson coughed up a brutal rebound 40 seconds later, and just like that, Ottawa is in the hole again. They never recovered. Tellingly, the Senators didn’t receive a penalty in the second period; when they had to tie it up, the officials let them play. Ottawa is getting killed in this series because the bottom has fallen out on their unreal goaltending; their Norris trophy defenceman is clearly not 100%; they’re playing against a team with $13MM more salary than them, with generational talent; and in what amounts to the most important game of their season–and possibly Alfie’s last ever in Ottawa–they didn’t show up.

For those of us who have been watching the Ottawa Senators play for years, you can sense something different in the air. There’s a greater sense of pride over this team, and it’s not just the unexpected playoff appearances, the emergence of a superstar defenseman, or the affable identity Paul MacLean has brought to the team. It’s the fact that for maybe the first time ever, we don’t give a damn what other markets think of us.

Go back to the early to mid-2000s: Ottawa had a veritable All-Star team, replete with two Norris-worthy defencemen, scoring leaders all over the lineup, and solid if unspectacular goaltending. Jacques Martin coached what had been a league-wide joke to regular season credibility. And every year in the playoffs Ottawa ran headlong into a team that was, supposedly, less skilled, and were manhandled. There was a sense back then that this wasn’t just bad puck luck–Ottawa’s stars were off their game.

How did that happen? Well, playing what amounts to all road games thanks to your barn being filled with Toronto fans and media with Leaf-colored glasses might contribute some small bit. But more to the point, it was that Ottawa was trying to win at a large market game. We could beat up on lesser teams when the games didn’t matter, but when the eyes of the country turned to us we were shrinking violets. We didn’t just want to beat the Leafs–we wanted to be loved by Leafs fans.

What we didn’t realize back then, and seem to realize now, is that even if Ottawa won back-to-back-to-back-to-back Cups, we’ll never have the respect or the credibility enjoyed by large markets. You didn’t think they could hate you now, did you? But they hate you.

The larger numbers in those markets feed revenue; that revenue feeds media. That media feeds the perception of credibility. The desire to be liked leads to everyone and their brother following the cool kids’ team. That’s how you end up with newspaper stories like this one: the gutsy, hard-working, underdog Senators, the sole remaining Canadian team in the playoffs after big budget busts like Toronto and Montreal and Vancouver choke hard, don’t even get a little bit of love. They get a reminder that they will never, ever be seen as credible in the eyes of the large markets. (Never mind that the article simultaneously acknowledges that Toronto is seen as smug while smugly deriding it’s smaller cousin by saying the city–that’s right, not the team, but the city itself–is a city envied by nobody.)

That’s why the #pesky moniker means so much. The subtext here isn’t that we’re annoying (though we are, thanks). It’s that we acknowledge that Ottawa isn’t the romantic choice for generations of people whose fathers grew up following one of the original six franchises. I’d wager there are more people in Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver rooting for the Pens in this series. And you know what? It’s time we embrace that. We shouldn’t want it any other way.

It’s time for Ottawa to fully embrace, and feed off of, its status as a hated franchise. It’s not just the sort of team Leafs fans, and possible Sabres fans, can hate–we want all of the league’s hate. We can take it. We’ll feed off of it. It’ll make the victories that much sweeter.

As these Sens have shown, it doesn’t matter if we’re down a goal and down a man with less than a minute to go–they’ll eat your hate.

So yeah, I watched that Boston-Toronto game last night. A lot of people did. Not just hockey fans, but people I know who never watch hockey. My mother called me during that third period, right after Bergeron’s tying goal, to ask why this was such a big deal. Apparently, even with her limited access to social media, her computer was blowing up. I had text messages from people I haven’t spoken to in months. I spent about three hours just reading Twitter. Last night was an event. It doesn’t matter where your allegiances lie. Sometimes you just have to recognize when something is important to a lot of people.

And this was an event not just because of the already much-bandied fact that no team had ever come back from a three goal deficit in the third period in the history of the playoffs. To me the takeaway is that I sometimes forget that that team is not a team like our team. Our team, like most teams, is tied to our city, is tied to local pride, is tied to community, and is tied to our desire to distinguish ourselves from that team. But that team…they’re about people’s fathers, you know? Other than maybe a few of the other original six teams, they’re different. Not special. Not better. But different.

As I read Twitter last night, I saw the sort of stunned reaction as events unfolded turn to something resembling empathy. Can you imagine if that happened to us? How would that feel? About twenty minutes later that empathy transformed, predictably, into gleeful schadenfreude, then, weirdly, into blame: Toronto fans deserve this, somehow. Because some dude made a shitty sign; because they’re mean to us at our home games; because they cheered for Anaheim in the Final; because they’re everywhere.

I don’t know–maybe they do deserve this. But I’m reading the various blogs and recaps this morning and I don’t feel like rubbing it in. This is a team that missed the playoffs for eight years, were killed over the Kessel trade, and now, when they finally make the playoffs, raise hopes to insane levels only to open the door to the most crushing, excruciating letdown any sports fan could ever feel. Maybe that’s just sports, and we should dog pile on because, yeah, they’d probably do the same to us.

But I have to admit: it might have been fun to see something resembling success in the biggest hockey market in the world.

Ottawa is my team, and Toronto is always going to be Enemy Number One, at least until we actually beat them in the playoffs and exorcise those demons a little bit. But this morning I’m feeling a bit of empathy here. They played a good series. A gutsy series. They won two games in a row to force a game seven against Boston, and then dominated in Boston for 45 minutes against a team that has owned the entire division’s ass all season long, including ours. There will be plenty of time to shove the meltdown in their fans’ faces later. But for now, at least, I want to say: good series, guys. You’ll bounce back.

Maybe it’s just that I threw out my back and have spent the last couple of days in bed watching Game of Thrones and hockey, but the two things are starting to conflate in my head and I feel the need to spend a few minutes making a pompous salute to these Habs that Ottawa dispatched last night.

PK Subban

His hissy fits and alpha-male demonstrations became more a distraction by game three, but seeing what Subban can do, I can appreciate the difficulty of balancing the detrimental effects of that ego with how inextricably that ego is tied to performance. Subban gets pumped up, and he largely backs it up with Norris-worthy offensive play. The two things are dependent, really. But combined with other volatile personalities, like Michel Therrien, you can see the mixture becoming counterproductive. One gets the feeling that the burgeoning rivalry between these two clubs will center around the young defenceman. I’m looking forward to the teams’ next meeting, if only to see what he’ll do. It’ll either be a brilliant performance, or his head will explode.

Michel Therrien

If there’s anyone whose stock dropped during this series, it must be Therrien, who was not only outmaneuvered on the ice by Paul MacLean, but became a distraction to his team and a rallying cry for the opposition. He epitomized the characterization of the Habs as over-sensitive, entitled, and unprepared for the physicality of playoff hockey. The problem with the whole “they have no class or respect” tactic–if it was indeed a tactic to get his team fired up–is that you can only really play that card once, maybe twice. After that you’re just making excuses.

I said earlier in the year that the Canadiens wouldn’t be as bad as last year–how could they be with Markov back full time, another year’s development for their young players, a host of veterans, and an all-start goalie? Therrien deserves some credit, but I think his Jack Adams credentials were overstated, and in this series he showed himself the lesser between he and MacLean. Maybe Therrien is best thought of as a coach who gets a team back on track after years of underperformance, only to be replaced when the team is ready to get over the hump.

Brendan Gallagher

What a pitbull this kid is. Obnoxious, sure; a borderline player, full of greasy goals and provocation, definitely. Basically, he’d look great as a member of the 2012-2013 Senators.

Carey Price

He deserved better than this series. Price looked like a man on an island most nights. I  think he’s a quality player, possibly a top five goaltender in the league, but he was hung out to dry by his team on some of those goals. Imagine what he could do behind an even stodgier defensive system, without the injuries on the backend, and without the distractions of the Montreal market. He’d look great in Anaheim.

All them others

Even with the injuries, Montreal looked like a team with enough depth on paper to have better luck than they did. Bourque and Galchenyuk looked good, as did the players mentioned above, but looking at the box score to yesterday’s game I’m surprised to see that Michael Ryder actually played. I didn’t even notice him. (You have to wonder if Bergevin is rethinking that Cole trade about now.) I’ve often thought that Plekanec was an underrated top centerman, but he was largely invisible this series. That defensive corp was good at moving the puck and establishing a presence in the Ottawa zone, but couldn’t compete with Ottawa’s physical play. This group underperformed at a time of year when motivation should never be a problem.

Ultimately, the pundits will look at their division crown and pick them to finish much higher next year, and Montreal has an intriguing mixture of veterans and good young players that you’ll see them compete. In a seven game series, it doesn’t take much to tip it one way or another, and Montreal was outplayed, had bad luck, and got down early. These things happen; they’ll be back.