Bobby Clarke might have cracked a dozen ankles.
Paul Holmgren might have clubbed someone senseless.
Ron Hextall might have chased Jake Guentzel all over the rink, stick held high like a machete.
But these Flyers, assuming they're still really the Flyers, did nothing even as the Penguins skated, slipping pucks through their legs, dipsy-doodling around them like orange-and-black PennDOT pylons ...
... and admit it, you just kept waiting for it, all through what wound up a 7-0 romp between archrivals in the opening game of the Stanley Cup playoffs Wednesday night at PPG Paints Arena.
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