My friends, a small story may I share?
Like every good sports fan, I hate. I hate A LOT. With rare exception I basically hate everything that doesn't immediately benefit my chosen band of hired mercenaries who share a fondness for athleticism and don the same corporate logo on their chest.
So this entire post season has been a sham, but tonight...oh tonight I will watch like a four year old waiting for the OK to run downstairs Christmas morning. Three game sevens. At some point before the next sunrise (well in the North American timezones) three rosters are going to stand before the TV cameras and give that distinct look of exasperated failure which can only come from a game seven loss. Those blank stares, the look to the sky for answers, the painfully loud sighs, the delicious heartache you just want to eat up like it's a Vegas buffet. NOM NOM NOM.
Naturally we know a thing or two about game seven losses and/or heartache and, consequently, are all too happy to let the misery spread. I'm sad every series didn't go seven. But, as Krieger from Archer says...
Your pending golfers are as follows:
- 4:00 PM PT - The Wayne Simmonds Regional Express takes on Vigneault's Limp Blue clown horn - Toot toot! The fact we're at a game seven in a series where Philly has largely played so poorly and the Rangers have largely looked disinterested is...just...such pure joy. Whoever sucks less tonight will bump heads with Sidney Crosby's cannon-killing bastards, so in the interest of continuing the hate through to the next round, we endorse the Battle of PA and, for one night, stand in solidarity with cheesesteak nation. Oh pretty pretty please make Vigneault publicly explain how he couldn't get that roster out of the first round.
- 6:30 PM PT - The Crooks and Cooke sideshow hour take on Patrick Roy's pending seizure. I'll hand it to Minnesota, they certainly haven't rolled over and died as I had hoped. Yet the idea of rooting for Zach Parise is like paying someone to vigorously rub a cheese grater across the taint. Moreover, the Hawks are going to annihilate the winner here anyway, but in the interest of continued hate, I'd prefer Chicago deal with the kids than the Cooke. Thus, for one night only, we stand with you Rocky Mountain High...tonight would be a terrible time to do that whole regression thing.
- 7:00 PM PT - The Battle of California 1.0 reaches its most satisfying, beautiful conclusion. Only three teams in NHL history have rallied from an 0-3 deficit to win a series and, if the Kings pull it off, it'll cement San Jose as chokers in a league of their own (and, as fans of a team that also chokes, we tip our collective tinfoil hats). If San Jose can find someone to play goalie and pull out the win, their fragile mindset from this cage rattling will resonate for the rest of the spring, so can we say "best elephant in the room ever?" We're here for the hate and, with Anaheim ready for the Battle of California 2.0, we already won. So tonight, we stand with you Mr. and Mrs. quadruple OT. Make this one long, brutal, exhausting and ultimately horrifying for one of these insufferable groups. Bonus points if someone cries.
I'm so in love with life right now. Hugs for everyone!