My Pick to win Game Seven...

Okay, so who’s the genius who slipped a note to the Red Wings saying that Game Six of the Stanley Cup Finals didn’t start until 10:20, instead of 8:20? Nicely done, whoever you are. In what should have been potentially the biggest night of their season, the Red Wings came out flat as a pancake for Game Six of the Stanley Cup Finals in Pittsburgh Tuesday night.

How does a team as experienced, skilled, and focused as the Red Wings usually are come out and lay a big, fat egg onto the Mellon Arena ice surface for the first 40 minutes is beyond me. Then again, this entire series has been beyond me.

First, we had the "back-to-back" to kick things off: Games One and Two played on Saturday and Sunday in Detroit. This was supposed to be damaging to the older Red Wings, who were only a couple days removed from taking my beloved Chicago Blackhawks from the conference finals.

The Red Wings won both games.

Then we had Games Three and Four in Pittsburgh, and the Penguins were supposed to be deflated and discouraged by their oh-fer in Detroit, despite playing some pretty damn good hockey at times.

The Penguins won both games.

So, naturally, the old, tired Red Wings were in trouble heading into Game Five. They looked staggered; the champs were on the ropes. Maybe one or two more punches could finish them off.

Of course, the Red Wings destroyed the Penguins, 5-0.

The stage was set for Game Six. Morons such as yours truly said that these stages were made for the Red Wings. With the Stanley Cup in the building, I said there’s all the urgency in the world, right there. You didn’t even have to manufacture it. Plus, there would be the extra benefit for the Red Wings of an additional day off after Game Five.

Of course the Penguins went out and made the Red Wings look like that old, tired bunch from Games Three and Four.

Do I dare make a guess about Game Seven? This series, so far, has been like six different plays of NHL '09 on your PlayStation 2. None of the games have anything to do with the other. It’s a Finals series that only a Las Vegas bookie can love. There really are only two sure things I know of after watching this series: death and taxes.

Take Pens goalie Marc-Andre Fleury, for example. The kid looks like a bad seed after some weird goals in Games One and Two. Then he bounces back in Games Three and Four. Then he’s so awful in Game Five that he gets the hook. So Fleury is the game’s No. 1 star in Game Six, even stopping Dan Cleary on a heart-thumping breakaway with about 90 seconds to play.

Want another series myth to bust? How about the one that says the Penguins can’t win if Evgeni Malkin and Sidney Crosby aren’t playing in stellar form? The Pens got goals from Jordan Staal and Tyler Kennedy in Game Six, and Malkin and Crosby were borderline milk carton material for long stretches. There was a Malkin sighting in the third period.... when he was whistled for a penalty.

The Red Wings, meanwhile, played the first two periods as if they expected the Stanley Cup to be awarded to them after the game no matter what. The Red Wings should have had the sense of urgency of a toddler crossing his legs while his mother dragged him through J.C. Penney’s in search of the nearest bathroom. Instead, the Red Wings played, maybe, their worst game of the entire playoffs. And I’m talking anything you got, from Columbus to Anaheim to Chicago. I’ll even throw in Games Three and Four of the Finals, and I’ll still beat it with the Red Wings’ performance through the first 40 minutes of Game Six. They were awful.

If it wasn’t for Osgood, the Penguins would have matched the Red Wings’ five-goal win of Game Five, and maybe even have beaten it. Detroit had three shots on goal in the first period. Three. About one every seven minutes. Unless you plan on Fleury having a save percentage of about .566 for the game, that’s not going to cut it.

I’m done with trying to figure these Finals out. I predicted Pittsburgh in six before this goofball of a series began. After all I’ve been wrong about since they dropped the puck to start Game One and I’m not the Lone Ranger in that regard.

So it’s winner-take-all. There’s no tomorrow. All the chips are on the table. One-and-done. Women and children first. Buckle up, it’s gonna be a rough ride.

Okay okay... my pick for Game Seven? Well, considering every game in this series has been won by the home team the answer to that question is extremely simple:

Penguins: 3 Red Wings: 2