Canadian kids grow up playing shinny on frozen ponds and dreaming of moments like this: Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals, where everything is on the line and the winner gets to skate with this:
Anyone calling me tonight will be talking to my voice mail. No offense, but this is the best sports night of the year, without exception. Neither politics, nor stupid people, nor household chores will deter me from my date with Game 7. Susan has known me long enough to know that resistance is futile. Of course, not being a hockey fan, her only response to Game 7 and knowing that it is the end of the season is "Yes, there IS a God...."
It's may be 90 degrees outside with 65% humidity, but winter isn't over until one team skates with the Cup. Winter officially ends tonight.
For one night, I will not think about a potential lockout, or the possible end of the game I know and love due to sheer, unmitigated greed. I will not think about clueless owners and greedhead players who have forced the game to the brink of insanity. I will not think about 4th-line centers of middling talents making millions. I will not think about the NHL pretending to be a major sport by putting teams in Columbus and Nashville (what's next- a team in Butte or Boise??) I will not think about neutral-zone traps or left-wing locks or anything else that takes away from the beauty of the game. Tonight is for all the marbles between two teams who play the game as it should be played- and no, it DOESN'T get any better than this.
Game on, eh??
