Sidney Crosby, you’re so fine
I wish that I could make you mine.

My love for you just can’t wait,
I don’t care that you’re practically jailbait.

We could share personal grooming tips,
And live off money from your sponsorships!

Off the ice, you’re as nice as can be,
Not at all like that douchebag, Sean Avery.

And on the ice, you’re a sight to see,
But please, this year, no more injuries.

Just ignore Alexander Semin’s verbal racket,
At least your last name doesn’t mean ejaculate.

The Stanley Cup will be yours at last,
Then you and me, Kid, we’ll have a blast.

(Mario can come too)

Bet on NHL. Go Pens go!

Again in the category of surprising-sports-women-love: NASCAR.

Now, I didn’t really think too much about NASCAR until my mom professed her love for the motorsport. In fact, she has some kind of ambition to go to Talledega one of these years. (Then again, my mom also has a secret love of horse racing which has nothing to do with the crazy hats the fashionistas wear to the Kentucky Derby odds race)

For those of us ladies who aren’t my mom (who is awesome, btw) – or Nicole Scherwhawhosit, the Pussycat Doll who’s dating current Formula 1 champ Lewis Hamilton – and seek a little more excitement from the cars going around and around in a circle until someone crashes into a fiery ball of destruction, there’s always NASCAR betting. Jimmie Johnson – the newest inductee into The Most Boring Champions Club – looks to have this Sunday’s Ford 400 odds all wrapped up championship-wise, but your real best pick of the event is Kevin Harvick. Yeah, he’s a relative unknown, but he’s got great value and a decent chance of taking the thing all the way to the bank, champagne bottles and all. And, you know, a decent chance not crashing his car into a fiery ball of destruction.

Awesome.

Still, I think my mom’s got her money on Jeff Gordon – “because he seems like such a nice young man”. You know how it is. (Just make sure you pick a good sportsbook, k?)