
The tears came last night.
They started as the buzzer ended, and the final score flashed: 3-2.
The Penguins' quest for the Stanley Cup had come to a heartbreaking end, 6 games in.
Players hunched on the ice.
They sat in stunned silence on the bench, before getting up and congratulating the Red Wings on their victory- classy even in the face of despair.
And my heart broke for them.

The tears flowed again as I watched the locker room post.
Some players were so choked up, they couldn't talk.
Some put on a brave face to answer questions they didn't even want to *think* about.
And their leader, just 20 years old, tried gamely to talk, even as his voice quivered and his eyes welled up again and again.

I, personally, did not lose the Stanley Cup.
I never set foot on the ice.
I think the team played their hearts and their guts out and don't fault them for anything.
So why do I feel as bad as Crosby, Malkin, Malone, Fleury, Talbot and the rest?
Have I become the type of fan that takes the team's loss as personally as the players do?

The tears flowed this morning as I read several wrap-up articles, lauding the young Penguins and painting a bright outlook for the future of these amazing guys.
And as I looked at my tears, I saw that they had turned BLACK and GOLD.
They started as the buzzer ended, and the final score flashed: 3-2.
The Penguins' quest for the Stanley Cup had come to a heartbreaking end, 6 games in.
Players hunched on the ice.
They sat in stunned silence on the bench, before getting up and congratulating the Red Wings on their victory- classy even in the face of despair.
And my heart broke for them.

The tears flowed again as I watched the locker room post.
Some players were so choked up, they couldn't talk.
Some put on a brave face to answer questions they didn't even want to *think* about.
And their leader, just 20 years old, tried gamely to talk, even as his voice quivered and his eyes welled up again and again.

I, personally, did not lose the Stanley Cup.
I never set foot on the ice.
I think the team played their hearts and their guts out and don't fault them for anything.
So why do I feel as bad as Crosby, Malkin, Malone, Fleury, Talbot and the rest?
Have I become the type of fan that takes the team's loss as personally as the players do?

The tears flowed this morning as I read several wrap-up articles, lauding the young Penguins and painting a bright outlook for the future of these amazing guys.
And as I looked at my tears, I saw that they had turned BLACK and GOLD.
Awww! Now you're making me tear up and I don't even watch hockey!
ReplyDelete