Pam101 missed it by one night....One Night!!!

Sidney Crosby signing at Excuses Bar and Grill...Totally took the photo of their FB page.

I think most of you know that I used to work where Boo101 currently works. Because of Boo101 and the other fabulous ladies in the American Legacy Foundation's communication team I met Anna. Anna is this adorable, bubbly, young girl who just happens to call Pittsburgh home. She also went to IUP (which is where Big Brother went and where Pam101 was accepted but didn't go). Anna's FB status got my attention today...here is what it said, "Did I really watch Sidney Crosby sing Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" for an audience of his Penguin teammates last night in the Southside? Pretty random."
WHAT THE F IS THAT!? So, I sent her a note saying I was in Pitt this weekend too..I missed seeing them by one night! ONE NIGHT! Here is the very detailed play by play Anna sent me. Enjoy!

Anna's Play by Play:
What started out as a quiet Friday-night dinner with my temporarily out-of-town boyfriend and his buddy turned out to be a brush with fame. I had been meaning to meet up with a relative so we could catch up on each other's lives, so we decided to get together Friday after her shift at a restaurant in the Southside -- where my boyfriend is living during his time in Pittsburgh. We parked at Carson and 27th streets and started walking down the strip from there. After sucking down water and a couple beers at dinner, as soon as we met up with said relative, I needed to find the closest restroom -- which turned out to be Excuses Bar and Grill.

We crept into the hole-in-the-wall dive bar, adorned with all sorts of Pittsburgh sports paraphernalia, and I suddenly felt at home. I was just getting settled, asking my crew what everyone would like to drink, when said relative casually said, "Oh, thats Fleury over there," as in the goalie of the Penguins, Pittsburgh's Stanley Cup-winning ice hockey team. I silently freaked a little. And it doesn't stop there; I should've guessed that Fleury's teammates wouldn't let him fend off over-zealous fans alone. Other players, consisting of Talbot, beloved team captain Crosby and other unrecognizable-to-me players came out of the woodwork. Actually, Crosby came out of the bathroom. One of the players told said relative and me that he was in the restroom, which was being guarded by a large man. When the door opened, and the guard stepped aside, out walked Crosby. I stood there, waiting for this large, padded, illuminating hockey GOD to emerge from the restroom. And maybe I envisioned a fog machine and pyrotechnics, but it was unfortunately a bit short of magical.

In fact, I never realized until this moment, aside from dating a hockey player in college -- who would've been very jealous of my run-in -- how short hockey players really are. My incredibly handsome 6'2" boyfriend and attractive male friend weren't as impressed as said relative and I were, and they didn't really understand the magnitiude of what was going on. So, I was doing my best to tone down my surprised state, especially so it didn't come off to my boyfriend that I was drooling over someone other than him (which is impossible), let alone the hobbit-like creatures, as fabulous as they are.

I continued to play it cool while my super-cute said relative worked the room, which had suddenly filled with players. Damn, it went from bar to locker room in just minutes. I started a tab for my crew and, upon request from said relative, pondered the type of drink I should buy Fleury. I thought that Canadian beer would do; hockey players like Canadian beer, right? Well, I opted against that because, if you recall, the Penguins lost the series after a hard-fought seventh game played against the Montreal Canadians just that week, so I knew that it would still be a little too fresh and may not sit very well.

This prompted me to ask the bartender what Fleury's favorite drink is, and she said that he enjoys a grape vodka with Sprite/soda. (It didn't mean too much to me at the time to remember what he mixed with the grape vodka.) Once again, I didn't want to come across like I was hitting on Fleury and act disrespectfully to my wonderful boyfriend, whom I'm sure was watching the entire episode while shaking his head, so I gave the drink to said relative and told her to give it to him. He thanked her very kindly, which began a conversation.

The scene migrated to the back of the bar, where karaoke was going on and, to my surprise, where Crosby was belting and fist-pumping to Journey's "Don't Stop Believing." I considered videotaping the show, but that would've meant swimming through a sea of those over-zealous fans I previously mentioned. There are two things, among many others that I hate being: a tourist and a groupie. Said relative wanted to get up and sing together, but I declined. It takes a lot for me to decline karaoke, but I was being a tired lame-o and could tell the guys, who worked a long and hard week, would die happy men if we all left the bar very soon. So, I bought said relative one more drink and let her know I'd be closing my tab and heading out.

Knowing that she would be driving home, I lightly suggested that she wrap things up, too, while I patiently wait. She wanted to stay but insisted that she felt comfortable staying alone and continuing to talk to the players. Let me put it out there that I am not the type of person who goes to the bar and leaves my friends there when I don't want to be there anymore. I'm normally more fun, but I also didn't want to shit on said relative's glory moment. I was quite excited for her!

So, the boys and I headed out. ::cue paranoid Mom mode:: Let's just say that my phone was glued to me, despite not having seen my boyfriend in ten days. We went back to the guys'' apartment (not the players' -- my boyfriend's and his friend's), just up the hill from the bar. I was lying in bed and worrying about said relative because she wasn't responding to my text messages and said that she would do so if I were to check on her. I was about to march my booty back down there in my PJ's, when I got the text message letting me know that she was leaving, which was then followed by the one letting me know that she had arrived back home safely. That's all wonderful news, but she left out key information.

1. that Talbot asked for her number or gave her his -- I can't remember which one, but I bet it was the former.

2. that Talbot offered her a ride home, which she was very smart to decline
Not only did she leave this out, but she didn't tell me until Sunday.

Would you have said yes to ride home with this guy? Pam101 probably would have sprinted to his car (and we all know I don't run).

In conclusion, tonight I learned to follow my bladder because it may lead you to a wonderful hole-in-the-wall dive bar filled with some of Pittsburgh's finest gold nuggets.

Bravo Anna...Bravo!