By Chris Hubbard
This past Monday, for the second time in my life, I had to endure the pain of watching my beloved Devils lose a Stanley Cup Final. It’s a tough pill to swallow. I have to say, no matter how long you see it coming, it doesn’t make it any less painful as you’re watching time expire on your season. You start thinking about the other games you lost in the series. “One inch to the left and game 1 would have been ours!” or, “we only gave up one lousy regulation goal in 4 of the 6 games.” And yet here we are.
Yes, I’m one of those fans who uses the obligatory We when talking about their sports team. It wasn’t just the Devils who beat the Panther’s in 7, it was me and the Devils. They scored the goals and did the skating, I tried to stand on one foot and eat nachos the entire game because that’s what I did to help them win game 6. It was the same all the way through to the final. Not necessarily channeling the power of nachos, but in each series there was a routine to follow. When I did, we won, when I didn’t we didn’t. That’s where this article comes in. I’m sorry Devils. I abandoned you when I took a two hour drive south to play in an Ultimate Frisbee Summer Leauge.
Before that, people say we weren’t doing so great, but we were close. And then I found the winning formula. I just needed to move my seat from my house, to someone else’s. In the two wins of the series I watched from the couch of one Andrew Kaspereen, and it was glorious. We could feel the upset coming. We could feel game 7 around the corner, and then all bets were off. But then I did what I should have never done. I abandoned the routine. I went south to play ultimate and the rest is history.
I should have known better. I’d done this once before, the previous Monday. That should have been all the warning I needed. Game 3 was a blow out for the Kings. It was a grotesque game and it was all my fault. I know that now. But I missed the signs and after quite a bit of self-convincing, I brought myself to leave for game 6 as well. But I did, and I cost us the Cup, and no one is more ashamed than I. Next year will be better Devils, I swear. If we make the finals again I’ll step my game up. I’ll buy a rally monkey, I’ll bleach my hair, I’ll grow a better beard, I’ll turn my hat inside out, hell I’ll turn all my hats inside out. The important thing is I’ll step it up on the routine front, and in return all I ask is to score more than 1 goal a game, maybe?
Ah, who are we kidding, we’re the Devils, we don’t win unless by shutout, and I’m fine with that, except when we lose. I’m so sorry.
I blame you entirely for the loss. Worst part is, I would have been able to attend game 7. I hope you are stricken with the gout.
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