Going up 3-0 in this series terrified nearly ever Kings fan out there, present company included. The media keeps talking about 45 years without a Cup but what they don’t realize is that our fans aren’t used to winning. Going to the Stanley Cup Final is like taking a heart patient into a strip club for the first time. It may kill us. So we do crazy shit to cope.
Surly told me last home game that he has worn the same underwear for the past 3 days…or was it the last 3 games? I am not sure which is more disturbing to his fiance.
Homeless lady comes up to me at the gas station on Wednesday afternoon and asks for change. I tell her I don’t have any. She leaves. I check the center console and I do have some. Now I feel terrible because I didn’t give her change. Did the Hockey Gods see that? Are they upset? I am chasing her down trying to pay her.
I always wear a black Kings shirt when I watch games at home. I couldn’t find it. I asked the wife and she pulled it out of the dirty hamper. Damn it. I had 2 other ones that weren’t black but were clean. “Honey, I really need to wear that shirt…” She looked at me, confused as to why the shirt she held was more special than the other two that were clean. I didn’t explain. She didn’t ask. Just to prove the whole damn thing was silly, I didn’t wear the shirt tonight…now, I can’t stop thinking about it.
I sit down on the couch to watch the game. My phone is to my left, controller to the right. I then stand up and pace. I sit on the floor and toss the controller aside. Floor sucks. I move to the other couch. Nope. I change locations to the coffee table (no idea why they call it that. I have never once placed coffee on it). I sit on top of it. My daughter’s dog comes to hang out. I pick her up and hold her. Kings get hemmed in their zone. I gently toss the dog aside and ask her to go find my daughter to play. I just gave a full sentence instruction to a white poodle. My daughter shows up immediately thereafter with the dog by her side. Huh. She asks me if the Kings are going to win. I tell her yes. She asks me if the red team is any good. I tell her they are evil. “Evil?” she asks. “Evil”, I repeat. My wife shows up. “Mommy, the red team is evil,” my daughter explains. “Nicely done, honey,” the wife says to me. I move back to the first couch. All of this in the first 5 minutes of the first period.
Carrlyn eats a meatball sandwich each game day. She ate one in the car before game four and is persuaded that was bad form. Oh Carrlyn. You are as crazy as Surly.
Let’s get them out in the open. Let’s address and identify them for what they are. Nonsense. We have talked about this before. There is a significant difference between superstition and showing respect for the Hockey Gods. Let’s be logical and use our reason. We have clearly strayed from the path in the past two games. The bounces and puck luck have not been with us. Yet, we have played well. That means the Hockey Gods are not upset at us. They simply need us to correct whatever small diversion we have taken from enlightenment. I want you to now and forever renounce all your superstitions as being irrelevant to the L.A. Kings’ fate. The Hockey Gods will favor us again and it will commence with game 6. Let no man, woman or child who wishes to see the L.A. Kings lift the Cup doubt their ways.
May the Hockey Gods show us the path and blaze our trail through to the Stanley Cup.
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