As you may have heard, my beloved Pittsburgh Penguins lost in the seventh game of their playoff series last night, eliminating them from the postseason. For the first time in three years, they will not be in the Stanley Cup Finals. What I mourn the most is that I won’t be able to enjoy the extra month of playoff hockey I was able to witness the past two seasons. In addition to that, last night was the last ever Pens game in the Mellon Civic Arena and it ended just as it began, with a loss to the Montreal Canadiens.
Sports fandom is a funny thing, and even more odd to me now that I have kids. I mean, as fans we “live and die” with our team, enduring heartaches, heartbreaks, stomachaches, and arguments for our teams. And for what? When the team won the Stanley Cup, it’s not like I got some kind of cash prize or something. And still I care.
So yeah, weird emotions today about the game last night, although not as bad as they would’ve been when I was a kid. I think I’ve matured since then, in that area at least.
To look on the bright side, I’ve been given some free time at night I didn’t think I would have. I plan on using it to resurrect my cobwebby dream of writing a novel. It’s gonna take some focus on my part, but I know I can do it. I just need to start.
The Struggling Writer 