Robo Penguin is back.

Will it once again turn the Penguins into pigeons? Or is there simply too much promise in the Big Three’s 17th season for a cursed logo to impose its will on Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin and Kris Letang?

famously superstitious Crosby has been done in by uniform changes and former logos in the past. The Penguins tempted fate a couple of times by bringing back their original colors and the scarf-wearing Skating Penguin, and all it did was deny Crosby a couple of seasons of his prime.

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Now, Adidas’ latest Reverse Retro campaign takes the most divisive uniform in Penguins history (the Pigeon-esque home whites that debuted in 1992-93) and flips them to black.

I’m telling you, they’re bringing back a cursed logo.

Of course, cursed or not, a lot of people adore the Robo Penguin. It’s the emblem of their youth, those carefree days when you can live in the moment and ignore harsh truths.

You have to feel for these people. They deserve their uniform moment, even if only for a season — the Reverse Retro jerseys are again a one-off as they were during 2020-21. Also, let’s be fair: The Robo Penguin crowd can point to some significant highs as reason for the Penguins to embrace it three decades later.

The Penguins’ lone Presidents’ Trophy. Jaromir Jagr’s five scoring titles. Almost all of Darius Kasparaitis’ blissfully big hits. Nine of the 11 consecutive seasons in which the Penguins made the playoffs and had the old Igloo rocking and rolling. Iceburgh’s debut, and “Sudden Death,” and some glorious comebacks against the Capitals.

All Robo Penguin. All good times.

Those and the handful of other very good moments that happened when the Penguins jerseys jettisoned the Skating Penguin for the Robo Penguin should be cherished.

But the Robo Penguin itself shouldn’t be, because for every bit of good it delivered, bigger bad followed.

That includes some of the Penguins’ most crushing postseason losses, such as the Flyers sending Mario Lemieux into retirement with a defeat (1997), the Flyers rallying from an 0-2 series deficit and winning a five-OT game in Pittsburgh (2000) and the Devils ending Lemieux’s comeback season in the conference final (2001).

There were also those two Game 7 conference final overtime losses in 1993 and 1996, Jagr requesting a trade after his 11th season instead of playing only for the Penguins and Ron Francis leaving as a free agent in 1998.

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Nobody can say for sure that Robo Penguin caused the NHL’s dead puck/trap era, but the best teams were scoring goals in the early 1990s. Then came the Robo Penguin and … not long after, clutch-and-grab replaced skate-and-shoot. Lemieux quit rather than play hockey the wrong way, as it became “played” near the mid-to-late 1990s. It’s clearly the Robo Penguin’s fault.

Lemieux loathed the Robo Penguin. That’s not a myth. Anybody who knows him will attest. He hated former owner Howard Baldwin’s money-grabbing idea to bring about a new Penguins logo under the guise of toughening up the emblem.

The Stanley Cup score is Skating Penguin 5, Robo Penguin 0. That’s reason enough to shelve the Robo Penguin for life.

Oh, then there’s Kevin Stevens.

Stevens, still the greatest power forward in Penguins history, was a top-five NHL scorer consistently for a few seasons before the Robo Penguin arrived. He also was a big-game player, coming through in clutch and postseason situations with regularity. He also was a Boston-born-but-Pittsburgh-perfect Penguin: tough, unapologetic, fearless, imposing, but also skilled and proud.

Then came that Game 7 against the Islanders the first postseason with the Robo Penguin. The rest, unfortunately, is history.

Stevens was the heart and soul of that Presidents’ Trophy team. His injury came early in what would become the most gutting loss in franchise history, a defeat that ended a three-peat bid. The Robo Penguin curse essentially started there.

The Robo Penguin saw several more popular Penguins leave: Ulf Samuelsson, Rick Tocchet, Tom Barrasso and Larry Murphy. Plus, the much-maligned trade that sent away an about-to-breakout Markus Naslund — why, Robo, how could you?

And, of course, the Penguins themselves were almost dissolved with the Robo Penguin. Only a favorable ruling from a bankruptcy judge prevented Pittsburgh’s hockey franchise from vanishing. Not relocating. Just disappearing.

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To ignore these frightful facts about Robo Penguin’s curse is ignorant. To tempt the uniform gods again by bringing Robo Penguin back is perilous.

But what’s done is done. Robo Penguin is back, if only for what amounts to a cameo.

There were a few of those great days for hockey with the Robo Penguin. There were a lot more bad ones.

Anyway, it’s too late to argue against the Robo Penguin’s return. It’s happened.

So to Robo Penguin, this humble request: Leave your curse behind this time.

(Photo courtesy of the NHL)