May 14, 2006

Admitting defeat.

Son of a fucking crackhole bitch.

12:05 PM

It wasn't a typo in the way you all thought. I've fixed it, but I actually prefer the original.

There is no state of being on this planet more infinitely frustrating than that of being a Senators fan. No, hear me out.

Chicago fans have the curse as their excuse -- the team has been so shitty for so long that there are no expectations.

It is similarly the case with Toronto fans -- except they have the added bonus of being arrogantly ignorant. Toronto fans are the George Bushes of the hockey world.

But Ottawa fans -- what have we got? We've got a gold-star level team, consistently the best in the league, packed to the gills with superstar players, who consistently raise the bar on our expectations, and then, just as consistently, spectacularly fail to match up -- with no apparent reason for the collapse.

The Senators just choke in the playoffs.

What is it about the playoffs that is so different from the rest of the season? It's like it's a different game altogether, one which the Ottawa boys don't seem to know how to play, nor do they have the desire to learn.

It is so frustrating to us in our little town, the centre of Hockey Country, Canada, the capital of our little northern world, that our representatives can't do what they were destined to do. A legacy of over a hundred years is at their disposal, and yet they can't draw from it any form of divine inspiration. The hearts of a million people in a thousand-kilometer radius beat for them and it leaves them cold.

They are playing for each other; they should be playing for us.

What is more frustrating than being a Senators fan is listening to the Senators fans whose cynical little hearts have beat their last for the team. To hear the multitudes as they play God and spout nonsense about what they know would be the cure-all for the team's woes.

I get really annoyed at those would-be coaches who begin their rant immediately after the puck is in the net, those who lose their faith at the first sign that there are no miracles, that these demigods on the ice are no more than humans in plastic armour. Trade him? Sack that guy? Do you even know what it is that you are saying? Are you a real coach or general manager? Have you skated on that ice? Have you felt the pressure, the pain, the joy, and the suffering that those involved feel on a daily basis?

No?

Then shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear you again until you have something more constructive to say. Posted by Ally at May 14, 2006 12:45 AM
Comments
Post a comment









Remember personal info?