One and One Make Five

So, tell me that you love me
Sort out this confusion
Say our love is still alive
For people must be jumping
to the wrong conclusion
that one and one make five

A few years ago, the Rangers played the Flyers in the Winter Classic.  While I thought it would be entertaining to go, while I thought it would be fun, I decided against going.  People argued and said, “It’s a ONCE IN A LIFETIME type of game! You HAVE to go!!”  I disagreed.  I figured, it would come around again in due time.  Now with the Stadium Series happening, I am glad that I didn’t go.  I never had any regrets.  And as big of a baseball fan I am, I never once thought I should’ve gone to the All-Star Game when it was at my home stadium in 2013.  I’ve just never been an “exhibition game” type of gal.  Or novelty.  Whatever you want to call it.

I decided that I would have an element of regret if I didn’t at least try to get to the Stanley Cup Final game.  Winter Classics, Stadium Series…I figured it would be a given if a cold-weather team played in it at some point.

I was 18 years old the last time the Rangers found themselves in a Stanley Cup Final.  I am now 38.  I am two years away from 40.  I did NOT want to be in a position where I was pushing SIXTY the next time the Rangers were in it.

I monitored the pricing on StubHub.  Based on what Game 3 tickets were going for, and they were down 2-0 in the series, I thought it would be a virtual impossibility for to me attend unless I won tickets.  Then all of a sudden, the series was 3-0…and Game 4 became a potential elimination game for the Rangers.

I remember thinking vividly, I needed to go to this game, at some point on Tuesday afternoon (the day prior to the game).  And when I saw prices had fallen from upwards of $1,300 to now $400 for 400 level seats…I thought it was time to take the plunge.

Until I had a tough time finding a single seat.  I sent a text to my dad early in the day.  If I thought I had it bad, he saw a championship for his team 24 years after becoming a fan.  Then he had to wait another 20 to see them in the final again.  I would say, $400 was a fair price to pay for that luxury.  But he told me he wouldn’t be able to make it.

Ed told me that he could justify my going, so I could jump at the tickets.  But the ever elusive single ticket, it was dodging me.  But I decided I needed to go.  I needed to make that shit happen.

Worst case scenario…my team loses and I see another team celebrating a championship on my ice.  While I wasn’t at the 2000 World Series, the concept wasn’t exactly foreign to me.  I decided, I could handle it.

The other scenario is that the Rangers win, stretch it to five games (and I had some friends going to LA no matter for a conditional game to follow the Rangers…die hards, if you ask me), and I’d have seen my team win a game on home ice in the Stanley Cup Final.

Those odds were okay with me.

Till I realized, I had a kindred spirit who also wanted to go to the game.  Someone I had not seen since Hockey Date Night in early 2013.  Someone who agreed with me that we totally sucked for not getting to a game in 2013-14 season.

Before I knew it, we were texting, and then I was signing into StubHub to take the plunge to go to Stanley Cup Final.

It just made absolute sense that I needed to be there, no matter what.

This was an odd year for me.  I didn’t get to as many Rangers games as I wanted to.  I opted out of my package that I usually bought, which led me at least some playoff option.  I knew ultimately I’d regret it, that somehow the Rangers would be guaranteed to make the final this year.  Of course they did.  (After all, this team does like to torture me).

I did, however, get to watch most of their games on television…something, by the way, I’m not very fond of doing.  (Just not a big fan of watching hockey on TV).  I followed this team so closely, and especially during the playoffs, I fell in love with them even more.  The Rangers have always had a reputation of being a blue collar and hard working team, and their fans are just the same.  This year, it was different, and especially after the series against the Penguins, I got to see first hand just what it meant that “The playoffs are about whoever gets the hottest.”  It’s never about “who is the better team on paper.” It’s not even about “Who wants it more?” (You mean to tell me that Henrik Lundqvist doesn’t want it “more”?? Dafuq outta here with that).  And the playoffs were fun for me.

I felt 18 again.

The Big Three NYR  Gabby_Cup

And as @MissJToTheK and I said, YOLO…you only live once.  And anything can happen…just ask Ceil Saidel.

I’ve said before that no matter the sporting event, if there is a championship game here in New York City, you’d almost never think of it unless you followed that sport and/or team closely.  You can’t help but get caught up in the hype of this team.  You go anywhere near or around Madison Square Garden, you feel the energy.  You walk down the street, you can’t swing a dick without seeing someone in a Rangers jersey.  I remember partying on the street when the Rangers last won the Cup in 1994.  I definitely remember it being more of a Knicks town, who were going on an amazing run themselves.

This year was special.

And though I tried to fool myself by thinking I had made peace with any outcome (and I had felt that way during the first two periods), I really wanted them to win to force game five.  It was a bit chilly in the Garden.

It seemed like the team was playing defense the last 20 minutes. I wasn’t the only person who noticed that they weren’t going in for the kill.

I felt though as the time ran down, that a win was imminent. But of course the hockey gods had to fuck with us a little, towards the end. Because of course they did.

Photo Credit Daily Mail

Photo Credit Daily Mail

It wouldn’t be a Rangers playoff game if they didn’t mess with me towards the end.  Like the time I hid behind NotGlen Sather during a Rangers / Capitals playoff game and I was also holding my breath and nearly hyperventilated as we left.

It also wouldn’t be a complete game if a fight didn’t break out in the stairwell (ON THE STAIRS…bunch of fucking morons).  I got half a beer cup that drenched my back in the aftermath…and a Rangers fan…and RANGERS FAN told me to “Shut my c**t mouth” (I don’t say the “C” word…one of the few words I don’t say) because I told him to lay off the Kings fan who was minding his own business, who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I also saw a fight break out in 2011, between two grown ass men, who were both rooting for the same team.

No wonder they cut off alcohol sales after the second intermission.

I think Joanne and I barely said a word to each during the game.  But sometimes, you don’t have to speak.  There were no words.  We felt what the other was feeling.  I even told her I had a feeling I’d be crying, no matter the outcome.  I didn’t cry.  But I did feel very sad to see it end.  Happy that it happened though.

The Los Angeles Kings and New York Rangers do have a history, though.  This isn’t the first time that the Kings have been responsible for making me a sad Ranger fan.  Back in the 1989-90 season, the Rangers traded Tony Granato for Bernie Nicholls…I loved Tony, never liked Nicholls.

But if you look at the bright side, like I managed to do for game four, Nicholls was turned around to get Mark Messier.

And we ALL know what happened when he came.

We'll Win Tonight  large_mess_cup

I got watch a pretty amazing season, front to back, top down of the Seattle Seahawks and they went on to win the goddamn Super Bowl.  They looked at it as one game at a time.  Not a “we need to win X amount of games to win the whole damn thing.”

They looked at it as, if we win this game, we play the next.  And each game was a one game decision.

Russell Wilson also asked of his teammates, “Why not us?”

Champions do that.  Why not you, Rangers?  Why not win game five, and move to game six?  WHY NOT?

Nothing is impossible.  I’m still at peace with whatever the outcome tonight.  It was a lot of fun getting here.  The 2013-14 Rangers are a team that have endeared themselves to my heart.

I’ll enjoy whatever they give me, but why not you?  Why not you??

The Theatre

It’s another world here
The streets are gleaming
I was even dreaming
that they’re paved with gold
Seventeen at half past ten
All the crowds are surging past
An electric display

I worked in the New York City Financial District (right by the Canyon of Heroes) in 2000.  I was waiting for some electricity to spark, so to speak, but I never felt it.  It could have also been that at that point in my life, I had been going through some transition, and I wasn’t fully available to take it in anyway.

A few months ago, the Super Bowl was set on the main stage of the New York City metropolis (Okay, fine, it was in New Jersey).  Walking down Super Bowl Boulevard was fun.  But it certainly wasn’t hair raising.

It was different this time.  Just a few days ago, the Rangers opened the Stanley Cup Final in Los Angeles.  You’d never know it though, with all the blueshirts on Broadway, the Rangerstown logos and basically the taking over of Bryant Park by Rangers fans, young and old, and Rangers alumni, some older, some more recent.

If I wanted fireworks.  Well, this was it.

I was in high school, just weeks away from graduating when the Rangers last visited the SCF.  We all know how that ended.

It’s hard to believe it was 20 years ago that I graduated from high school.  That September, I entered college.  But I was still riding high from that Stanley Cup win.  I had visited the city a lot, which was still somewhat pre-Disneyified, with piss on the corner, coupled with drug dealers and summer heat.  And every time I visited, I made sure to swing by Madison Square Garden.  I didn’t get to go to a live game in that series.  But my dad and I made sure we watched every single game.  The Garden had opened up during the road games to watch the games from Vancouver.  I got to see the Pavel Bure penalty shot from the Garden, though it occurred in Vancouver.  The feed apparently showed the reaction of the fans in the Garden.  My friends told me that they saw me celebrating on TV.

It was some of the most cherished memories of my life.  And this is coming from someone who was at the last World Series championship winning game of her baseball team.

Yet, the last time the Mets were in the playoffs in 2006, it was the 20th anniversary of their last championship.  When Carlos Beltran looked at strike three, thus began the next eight years (and counting) of futility.  But the 2006 team was special.  It was fun going to games, even when the likes of Jose Lima pitched.

This season was strange, as a Ranger fan.  I didn’t opt for my mini plan that I usually purchase from my friend.  I mused that because of this, losing my playoff option, they were SURE to get to the Stanley Cup Final.  Of course they did.

But after game two, I saw something on the main stage.  I didn’t like it.  I saw that the team had given up.  They were making excuses. This saddened me, because shit happens in the span of a best-of-seven series.  And if I know this team, they have fight and spark and have surprised us every step of the way.  But it looks like they might have ridden this moxie as far as they could take it.

Whether they get swept or lose in five, or somehow manage to bring the series to seven games…I have a feeling about this team like I did in Game two in the 2006 NLCS.

I just don’t think it’s their year.

This saddens me, as a fan.  Obviously, I have a rooting interest here, and I want them to win.  I want that parade.  I’ve tentatively cleared my calendar for the days it could potentially be.   But it’s okay for me to say this, because I’ve made peace with the scenario.  I’d hate for the Kings to hoist the Lord Stanley at the Garden.  When I know in my heart of hearts that a few timely bounces here and there, this would have been the Rangers.

Even so, while we were watching the game on Saturday, I was saying that I felt like Jake Blues, when he was leaving Bob’s Country Bunker. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Or better yet, the Rangers probably wished they were leaving the town Jake and Elwood were headed towards.

In the meantime, that whole thing about me not going to the Stanley Cup Final…I’ve been monitoring the ticket prices for Game Four.  They are no longer astronomical, and have what I feel to be a reasonable mark up.  So…win or lose, do or die.  I might be there for what could potentially be not only the last Ranger game of the year…but the last hockey game, period, of the year.

I’ve made peace with the outcome, but it still makes me very sad.

Things don’t have to end badly.  You can be sad that it ended, but you can thankful that it happened.

And if the Rangers lose on Wednesday, I’ll be proud of how far they come.

If they win, well, when there’s light, there’s hope I suppose.  I am not banking on it though.  It is a nice thought, however.

I’ll just know that as a resident of New York City, I’ll always carry fond thoughts of this year’s Ranger team, as they took over the lights on Broadway for a brief time.

I Wouldn’t Normally Do This Kind Of Thing

Senior Pics 

Ask me why, I’ll say it’s most unusual
How can I even try to explain…
why today I feel like dancing
singing like lovers sing
when I wouldn’t normally do this kind of thing?
I wouldn’t normally do this kind of thing

To say the spring of 1994 was chaotic for me would be an understatement.

I was weeks away from graduating from high school, but I hadn’t yet decided on a college. (That came in the first week of June)

I was having a public humiliating breakdown with the guy who was my high school sweetheart, but that was neither here nor there.

My mother and I weren’t getting along, and to add on top of all that, I didn’t feel like I had anyone else in my corner but my dad and my cat.  Maybe a handful of friends.

At age 18, this was as close to the end of the world as possible.

But the Rangers for the first time in my tenure as a fan were in the Eastern Conference Final.  Their opponent was the hated Devils.  But it was the first time I ever felt the word loathe for any other team.

The Mets had won the World Series just eight years prior.  But I was 10 years old.  What did I know about “rivalry” or “hatred?”  I had no idea of a Boston/New York rivalry at that age, let alone had any real deep-seated geographical rival except for the fact that as a National League fan, I had to hate the Yankees.  It was in my blood.

So each game of that series, I’d meet my dad in Neptune (where he was living at the time), we’d take a ride over to Kelly’s Tavern (ye of the infamous reuben) and watch playoff hockey.
Ask me when
I’ll say it started when I met you
and ever since then I knew that the past couldn’t last
For right now I think I’m running
a race I know I’m gonna win
and I wouldn’t normally do this kind of thing
I wouldn’t normally do this kind of thing

Dad and I had a pretty decent run at Kelly’s.  We had caught a few games in the first two series, from what I can remember.  I mean, this is 20 years of faded memories, and my age is catching up to me in some respects.

But I do remember drowning myself in music, in my drive to Neptune each of those games.  On the way there, I listened to my newest find, Very, by the Pet Shop Boys.  They were simply not a one hit wonder for me.  One of the most underrated bands of its generation, in my opinion.  On the way home, win or lose, I’d listen to Erasure’s Greatest Hits (I believe the album was titled “Pop!”).

As I contemplated my next chapter in life, I really took in the music.  Very was lyrically intelligent and really hit close to home with so much of the messages of the song.  It started off with “Can You Forgive Her?” and ended with “Go West,” the cover of the Village People song.  Though the ride to Neptune usually brought me to either “Dreaming of the Queen” or  “Yesterday When I Was Mad,” the fifth or sixth song on the album.

If I wasn’t arguing or butting heads with my mother, my high school boyfriend and I were falling apart.  Music had always been an outlet.

And as I’ve said before, along with music, came sports.  But this was the first time I had a horse in the race, a first time in a long time.   From the dramatic entrance of song number one, to the moodiness of every other song to the anger and empowerment, it succinctly said EVERYTHING that I had been thinking, feeling or wanting to say myself.  About breaking free from the norm, and following my heart.  Something, by the way, that I am doing right now, and trying to come to grips with.  Adulthood may be overrated sometimes, but following your passion is always something that needs to be done.

If people say I’m crazy
I tell them that it’s true
Let them watch with amazement
say it won’t last beyond breakfast
it’s a phase he’s going through
denigrate or speculate
on what I’m going through
because it isn’t the sort of thing I’d normally do

To this day, I listen to Very, and it still gets me everytime.  It’s what I deem one of my “desert island albums.”  When my car was stolen in 2000, this was one of the CDs that was in there.  They could take the car; Very needed to be replaced.

It not only gets me…I get IT.  And when I listen to it, it brings me back to one of the most treasured times in my sports-loving life, and that’s when the Rangers won the Stanley Cup in 1994.  The album empowered me to drive up to a school and make a decision on the spot.  It made me make amends with my mother.  It made me move on from my high school boyfriend.  And it made me a hockey fan.  I have given up on the sport in the past.  But I’ve been back long enough to say this is special, and as a fan, I’ve earned that shit.

Ask me what
I’ll say I think it’s good for you
Believe it or not I know where it’s all leading to
I feel like taking all my clothes off
dancing to The Rite of Spring
and I wouldn’t normally do this kind of thing
I wouldn’t normally do this kind of thing
I wouldn’t normally do this kind of
this kind of thing

In recent years, before each game when the Rangers are in the postseason, I try to get in at least one song from this album.  It’s just one of those things I never get sick of hearing.  If I’m lucky, I will try to listen to the first five or six songs, like I used to when I’d go watch the games with Dad.

The 1993-94 Rangers are not just special in my heart because they won a championship.  It was because, as corny as it sounds, it gave me strength to move forward with my life.  That my world wasn’t crashing down around me…that things could and would be all right.  That like a caterpillar, I’d be a butterfly, floating off to my next chapter.

The spring of 1994 launched into what became the summer of my life.  The New York Rangers were a big part of that.  I did things that I normally wouldn’t do.  Like travel into the city with my friends to go dancing.  Like travel into the city to watch the Rangers on television close to the Garden, so we could be there for the celebration.

It’s very rare that I talk about alternatively being grateful or being pissed off at being a sports fan.  But last night’s win and subsequent playoff series victory made me so grateful for the Rangers. For my dad.  And for that spring of ’94.

This one is for Henrik and for McD.  For DStep and for Staal.  For Martin St. Louis.  For Grumpy Damus. For Chuck.  For NotGlen.  For Aimee.  For Katie.  For Anne Marie.  For Alvin and Kelly.  For Justine.  For DMan.  For Ciel Seidel.  And for everyone else in between (including my cousin, who came in later in life to love the Rangers).

And for especially the Pet Shop Boys, though I’m sure a British electronica band really would never see why they’d be forever linked with a U.S. hockey team.  They helped me get through a rough patch in my life, and so did the Rangers.  And they still do to this day.

Sam Rosen said in 1994, this one will last a lifetime.  I hope that he is wrong, that 1994 was it.  Thank goodness that I am getting to see another “very” amazing postseason run.

This is something we normally wouldn’t see.

A Podcast Doubleheader!

The Mets aren’t the only people to have a doubleheader this week!

I’ll be a guest on the Rising Apple podcast, at 8 pm ET TONIGHT.

Alternatively, Sam Maxwell, the “Converted Mets Fan,” and cohost of the Rising Apple podcast, will join me on MY show – the Mets Lounge – at 9 pm-ish ET.

I’ll be drinking a Raz-ber-rita…what’s in your glass?

Talk to you soon!

Not To Worry

I say, I got nothing to worry about…

Because the Rangers play Thursday.  And they will win on Thursday.

They will win because I’ve felt in my bones all along this would go to six games.

I’ve felt all along that they will win.

It’s game like last night they need to have that proverbial glitch in the matrix.  It’s something that’s off but it will rectify itself.

In 1994, I had one guy telling me, “No doubts, no doubts” in game 5 1994 Stanley Cup Finals.

In 1994, I had a guy telling me during Game 6 of 1994 Stanley Cup Finals, “Not.  To. WORRY!”

The Rangers lost both those games.  But they won the games that mattered, of course, and went on to win the Cup.

But just because there was a fucked up game in Montreal last night doesn’t mean that there is a momentum “shift” or any of that crap.

Let’s talk about Momentum Shifts with this video.

Yes, I know I’m looking at shit that happened 20 years ago. But like that year, we cannot deny that this is a special time to be a Ranger fan. It’s a special time for the Rangers. This is a special team.

They’ll have motivation in the form of Henrik Lundqvist, who was pulled just before a game-tying rally, only to have his replacement give up three more goals in a blow out.  But when Rene Bourque says that Lundqvist hasn’t been “much better” than Dustin Tokarski…well, to say that shots have been fired would be an understatement.  This has been a dirty series, a hard fought series.

I just can’t help but think…

The Rangers play Thursday.

They’ll win Thursday.

Finish the damn thing.

Go Rainjuzz.

 

GTFO

“Don’t boo your own team.”

I hear this mantra repeated over and over for the fans in Flushing.  This is hardly unique to the area; it’s a New York thing, for sure.  But I think even St. Louis Cardinals fans, you know the “Best Fans in Baseball,” have booed their own players, contrary to popular belief.

Look at hockey.  I am a Rangers fan, and the fans are BRUTAL.  I challenge any baseball player who has butthurt feelings to play hockey in an intense town like New York City.  They’ll be running home to their mommies, crying and sucking their thumbs.

So to boo or not to boo, that is the question.  I think when I was a kid, I used to think it was funny that players would get booed.  But when I was eight or nine years old, I thought the players were superhuman.  They could handle the cheers, the boos, any distractions.  Even the airplanes that flew consistently overhead.

It wasn’t until I was much older (probably older than I care to admit) that I realized that these were people who were coming up to bat.  People who were pitching, throwing the ball.  What other industry or job can one have that you can have a 70% failure rate and be GOOD at it?

Yet, here we are, with the age old question: “To boo or not to boo?”

According to former Mets hitting coach, Dave Hudgens, booing is a BIG problem at home.  (Mind you, I’m sure the team hears boos on the road…and they play just fine there).

“I really just think guys tried too hard at home,” Hudgens told MLB.com after his firing. “I think the fans are really tough on the guys at home. How can you boo Curtis Granderson? They have no idea how hard this guy works and how he goes about doing his business, doing his job. He gets off to a slow start and they’re booing him? Come on. It’s tougher at home to play than it is on the road, there’s no doubt about it. And they’re trying really hard at home.”

Wow.  I mean.  Just WOW.

Of all the things I’ve heard my team blame their poor play on…the fans are all of a sudden “the problem.”

From not going to enough games, to voicing displeasure, to not being loud enough.  I’m just at a loss.  I have no idea how to even broach this topic anymore.

I’ve been a Mets fan for 30 years.  I’ve been through more down years than up.  Never have I felt more condescended to by the ownership, front office and team in my life.  And this is after two ginormous collapses in 2007 and 2008, then sub-.500 years in CitiField.  All of a sudden…it’s the fans who are the problem.  Yes, that’s the one constant.

In the parlance of my time…#SMH.

And then, I have to hear the self-righteousness of the people who claim to never “boo” their own team.  And I mean, I might applaud fans booing, and yell a sarcastic, “Lets go METS” every now and then.  The only people I suppose I’m hurting, would be the players themselves.  Players, by the way, that get paid a shitload of money to listen to a few people boo IF THEY CHOOSE TO DO SO.  Because at this point, I’m sorry to admit, the laundry is going to get the brunt of the discontent here.  I mean, the ownership doesn’t take the field.  (And if they did, I’d probably cheer Saul Katz for the sheer news that he’d sell his shares of the Mets).  There is a larger picture here.

But over the years, I’ve thought of players who have been loathed by their own fans.  And I mean, I can think of at least a dozen players that Mets fans CANNOT STAND.  Two pop into my head, actually.

And I got to thinking…if everyone is claiming, “I don’t boo my own players.” Then those players are subsequently booed…who’s doing it?

It’s like the rhetorical question (that was literally translated) by Sally Albright, when she told Harry Burns most women fake orgasms at one point in their lifetime.

If most women have done it, chances are, they’ve done it with him.

And chances are, you’ve done it too.

I admit, I’ve been particularly harsh with Curtis Granderson.  I heckle him in the appropriate fashion: via social media.  But here’s the kicker: I want him to do well.  But I can’t fathom why anyone would think a guy who hit home runs at Yankee Stadium is all of a sudden “surprised” that this same guy hits long fly ball outs at CitiField.

Here’s a thought.  And it’s always been this.

It’s not CitiField.

It’s never been about the fucking walls, despite numerous attempts to make it about that.

It’s not about the coaches.

And it’s certainly not about the fucking fans and whether they voice displeasure every now and then.

GET BETTER PLAYERS.

Maybe they need to talk to guys like Troy Tulowitzki or Chase Utley (Utley’s corner, anyone?) and see why they manage to hit well at CitiField.

You know why?
They don’t make excuses.  And excuses, if you remember, are like assholes.  Everyone has one…and they ALL stink.

Can You Forgive Her?

I can’t say I’m a superstitious one.  I did adopt some superstitions, which in reality probably had less than zero impact on the outcome of this year’s Super Bowl, but that was because I could look forward to eating my cheesy bread each week during the football playoffs.

This year was kind of an accidental superstition in hockey.  I adopted the #ItsOnlyWeirdIfItDoesntWork philosophy because I had a migraine during Game 7 of the conference quarterfinals.  If you remember, the night of Game 7 against the Flyers, it rained like a mofo all day.  Cats, dogs, horses, cows, every type of farm animal.  I had a bad migraine.  I even cancelled my podcast at the last moment, though I had stuff I wanted to talk about.  Originally, I thought I’d be watching the playoffs, and be either really happy during the show, or really pissed off.  Either way, I didn’t know.  Because I ended up not watching.

I had laid down a bit, since I cancelled the show, and waited for my husband to return home.  Only problem?  He didn’t get home till after the puck dropped.  So I didn’t even have the television on.  And he was following the game on his radio.

Before I knew it, it was the second period.  I was going to turn the game on, but much like Keith Hernandez did in Game 6, he stayed in his chair because, “There were hits in that seat,” as he cracked open a Bud with coach Darrell Johnson in Davey Johnson’s office.

onlyweirdSo in the history of Keith Hernandez before me, I know I was not the only superstitious one during the hockey playoffs.  If you follow hockey, you know the tradition of hockey beards.  There are some weird fuckin rituals in hockey.  But cool rituals too, like the handshake line, handing the Cup to the captain.
The second round, I got desperate.  I was convinced that outside of the Pittsburgh metro area (and the five Devils fans), mostly everyone in America was rooting for the Rangers.  I know, it’s an oddity, because there is a New York superiority complex that other cities try to knock down.  But I’m pretty sure that if you are a) not a Pittsburgh Penguins fan, 2) not from Pittsburgh or D) just a fan of hockey not falling under A) or 2), chances are, you hate Sidney Crosby and it’s your civic duty to not want that team to win.
So there’s that.  I had to go for some gusto.  After Game 4, I became desperate.  One game from elimination, plus with the Rangers’ habit of winning one, losing one…this shit wasn’t going to fly.  Even if they did win Game 5…EVEN if they managed to pull to a Game 7…how would they win?
And yet they did.
And somehow, we were all part of it, by participating in our stupid game rituals that we are convinced helped them win.
For @NotGlenSather, he kept his McDonagh jersey on his couch (only during road games though…it wouldn’t work at home for obvious reasons…reasons, none of us know, of course).

For Metstradamus, he had to take the bus for at LEAST one period (he was lucky that was it…the first time, he was going to pick up an air conditioner).

So my superstitions became the stuff of legend.  When I opted out of Game 5, I figured the worst that could happen was that the Rangers lose.  If they won, I’d play by ear to watch Game 6.  Then they won Game 6.

The irony is, Game 7 wasn’t tough for me not to watch…because I wasn’t home at the beginning.  I had a weekly networking meeting, and I knew I wouldn’t be home till the second period, at the very earliest.

Even so, my husband forbade me from watching the game at all.  I was DYING.  It was absolute torture.  But Twitter did a good job of keeping me updated.  So I got the feel of watching the game.  Then…the unthinkable happened.  They WON. Holy shit, did it WORK???

Truth is, this little superstition I worked up…was only for elimination games.  So I’ll be back for the Eastern Conference Finals.  It feels different this time.  I stress out each series, until this moment.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say…I can pretty much guarantee a Stanley Cup appearance or win, at the very most.  Why is that?

I didn’t get my Rangers seat option this year.  I backed out of it.  It didn’t feel right this year.  I knew I should have held onto it.  But whatever.  I felt like, what were the chances they’d get to the ECF AGAIN?

Yup.

So now there’s a chance they’ll win the Cup.  And I won’t be able to go to any of the stupid games.  I guess somehow I deserve NOT watching the games nor going to them at all.

Bad, bad fan.

So I’ll test the waters by watching the first few games…but of course, I’m traveling during the first game.  So that means I won’t be able to watch the whole thing anyway.

If they win, is it proof that my silly ritual worked?  Or merely coincidence?

Thank goodness for game ones…and game sevens.

A Special Mets Lounge Podcast TONIGHT!

Think you might need a Subway Series break tonight?  You won’t want to miss tonight’s special Mets Lounge podcast.  And if you’re a cool kid, you’ll certainly find a place here.

My special guest tonight will be Albert Dabah, owner of Simba Productions, and we’ll talk about his passion for baseball, and his pre-production feature film Extra Innings.

We’ll be airing live at 9 pm. Dial in for my pre-interview Mets rants (which is actually a bit happier than normal days).