Thursday, April 21, 2005

Bel-fourrrr Bel-fourrrrr Bel-fourrrrrr Bel-fourrrrrr

Everyone's been asking me lately: "How are you getting along without the hockey season?" My family has been writing, expressing their concern. My friends have all been wondering what we'll do with all that free time. Some people have wondered how Nabby is taking it. After all, she is named after someone who will one day be known as the greatest goalie of all time (step aside, Sawchuk. You don't have a power play goal!), so I guess she's bound to feel a little down about it, too.

Well, I'm muddling through, thanks. I can fight off the tears and stay strong. There are good days and bad. I try to focus on the silver lining. I'm not staying up until 5 a.m. 3 to 4 nights a week watching games. I'm not spending hundreds of dollars on tickets or driving hundreds of miles to see games. I'm not stressing out about the logistics of seeing the Sharks in the Cup Finals, which I will stop at nothing to attend when and if the chance arrives. I'm not testing the limits of my vocal chords from screaming at jerks like Tie Domi and Eddie Belfour. I'm not wondering if the Mr. and I will die when we wear our jerseys in Philadelphia or New York.

On the other hand, I wonder: is this the season the Sharks would have won the Cup? It would totally figure, you know. Whenever they get within sniffing distance, something derails them. Like when Teemu Selanne MISSSED AN OPEN NET AT CLOSE RANGE. OH MY GOD, TEEMU, WHO DOES THAT? I miss my autographed Evgeni Nabokov jersey. It's just hanging out in the back of the closet like a sad, old, forgotten relic. My grandkids will see it and ask one day, "Grandma, what's that?"
"That's a hockey jersey, kids."
"What's hockey?"
"It's when big guys with sticks and no teeth would push a piece of plastic around on ice, and sometimes they'd get tired of doing that, so they'd throw down their sticks and beat the shit out of each other and make each other bleed. And at the end of the game, they would shake hands. It was so fun."