blackhawks post

Existentialism on Stanley Cup night

Jun 26, 2013
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Well, that was fun. On to the next one.

It was a stellar finale to a shortened season. Both the Boston Bruins and Chicago Blackhawks left it all on the dance floor and gave the fans a series for the ages. Someone had to lose, and someone had to win, and I’m glad the squad I root for came out on top. Granted I lost nearly every wager I put on the series, but I come out with an emotional high, right? Right??

For the Bruins and Hawks, it was this year or else. Next year it will be a near impossible task to get back to the top of the mountain. There are a few reasons to expect botch franchises to take steps back next year. The in a more succinct season, the season actually went longer than usual, and nearly every player on both sides had a semi-severe injury. Repeating in the modern era is damn near impossible, and recent history shows it. So don’t go plunking your money down on one of these two.

As for the actual games, I happened to be a bar for the waning moments of Game 6, and it was satisfying and great. For one, the alcohol selection is better at a bar. Second, I’m glad I shared the final two minutes with a large group of people I didn’t otherwise know. The rollercoaster that had been the Blackhawks ‘postseason had one last final thrill that we didn’t know about. And once my reaction had worn off, it was incredible to see other fans’ elation. So many poorly executed high fives. So many shots. So many opportunities to steal everyone’s purse.

As Tuesday rolled around and I basked in the glory of somebody else’s accomplishments, I questioned why I watched and loved sports. It’s an instant hangover that recalls the first fight you have with your bride after you get married.

Here, I didn’t really win anything. After much hungover deliberation, for me, it comes down to the human connection associated with it. It’s a shared experience with your fellow man that feels like a part of something bigger. I go to most games with my dad. In a few years I’ll bring my kids. When I go meet friends out, it’s usually to go watch a game. Most of my daily interactions with friends revolve around fantasy sports. I’m a bro. Embarrassingly so.

I guess some people have religion or meditation or the McRib or storm chasing that keep them going forward with a smile on their faces. I have sports. Sport is my religion. Sport is my McRib.  And winning just makes the experience more enjoyable, so win, dammit. Sure a banana split is great, but once you put cocaine on it, it’s better, is it not? When the team you root for wins, the season goes longer and the experience is better. I mean for fucks sake the White Sox (my other true love) almost blew a game last night because two players collided on an infield pop up. That shit is embarrassing, but I was watching. Now I can bitch about them with my fellow man.

I think that is why people are never satisfied with sports. Or a championship. Sport is much more enjoyable in the present tense. Once Chicago raises the banner in October (my god only three months away), they’ll drop the puck and start another journey toward the Cup, and everything about this year will be virtually forgotten. I’ll watch hoping to see something that I’ve never seen before. And hopefully that involves plenty of wins, or even a repeat.

Finally, I couldn’t help but notice how gracious Boston fans were in defeat, and I wondered if I could return the same attitude if this incredibly tight series was reversed. It may have taken a bit, but I think I could have. After all, the goal is to enjoy the ride and savor the moment. But once the moment is gone, it’s on to the next, hopefully enjoyable one. Fucking White Sox.

See you in September.

Gambling update:

Ugh.

Push:

The only win (push) I had was the Jonathan Toews under of five points @ 115. So I get my 115 back on that.

Losses:

Boston Series win @ 250

Tuukka Rask under .930 save % @ 115 (came in at .932)

Pat Sharp win Conn Smythe @ 20

Overall I lost $253 on these here playoffs after putting $2000 in action. So if you want to lose $50 a week you now know whose advice to take.

Um, let's see, I don't know, maybe about six feet tall and two hundred pounds? I've been doing theater and improv in Chicago for a while now. Like fifteen years or so. O, yeah, I have a full day, day job for insurance and monetary purposes (no more half days with a big nap in the afternoon). I work as a project manager for a metal manufacturing plant. Huh? O, ah, two kids a wife. Yeah, they're great. I mean, not all the time great, like Brady Bunch shit, but no one has burned the house down yet. So, yeah, I guess that's it. I didn't get the job, did I?