Are you there God? It's me. Lia. [Bargaining]

................................................... Sigh.

Bargaining. The third, and most pathetic, stage of grief.

If you've ever had the misfortune of having to be associated with me at the tourist stands in the Carribbean, you will know that I am a terrible haggler. So let's just cut to the chase, shall we? I will give probably just about anything to have a good hockey team.  

I'm very serious. Take my watch. Take my first born. I don't care what it is that I have to give up, I just need the misery to end. And if it could please end in time for the Canucks game this Saturday, that would be awesome, seeing as how I was shadily roped into a bet that involves me wearing an embarrassingly labelled graphic tee in one of the nicest restaurants in Toronto if the Leafs lose.

I don't need them to win the Cup [any time soon]. I don't even need them to make the playoffs this year. I just need hope. All I'm asking for is a light at the end of this miserably long and dark tunnel - A young and exciting forward who just needs a few more years to get his sea legs under him, or a goalie that can stop pucks, or a captain that doesn't need to be booed during practice so that he can get used to the sound (true story. I don't want to talk about it), or a star player that plays like a star player, or a coach that is a nice human being. I need something, ANYthing, that lets me believe that I am not wasting my energy on this black hole of a hockey club.

Please. PLEASE.

Hockey for Bernies: NHL Cheat Sheet

More than a few people, but mostly my lovely roommate, have pointed out how depressing and horrible and completely Leafs-centric my blog has become. SO, I will scrap the "Bargaining" post that I painstakingly prepared in time for tonight's game against the Oilers (but seriously: please please please please pleaseeeee win. Please. PLEASE.), and revisit the ol' Cheat Sheet.

(1) Female hockey fans continue to find ways to make me consider a sex change.

I can deal with pink hockey jerseys. Sure, I would never be caught dead in one and I mercilessly judge anyone who wears one, but they have a charitable connotation that makes them tolerable - i.e. I can convince myself that that shrieking girl over there with the hoop earrings and the UGGS is wearing her toddler-sized, belly-baring pink jersey with "Mrs. McBabe" on the back because she actually cares about breast cancer research.

But this. THIS crosses a line:


Courtesy of Senator Fan Steve, who is always looking for creative
ways to make me off myself.

Ladies. Help a sister out here, would you?

(2) The Edmonton Oilers recently drafted Ken Wu

Ken Wu, for those who didn't watch The Mighty Ducks 74 times, was the figure skating phenom who was drafted to the Mighty Ducks in D2, and dubbed "little bash brother" by Fulton and Portman (yup, 74 times is likely a generous underestimate). Clearly, Linus Omark is also a fan:  



This was Omark's first shootout attempt, and as a result, it has sparked a number of NHLers to comment on the appropriateness of a rookie attempting such a flashy move.

I fail to see what the big deal is. Everyone is reacting like he attempted a triple sow cow off of a tightrope and then bounced the puck off his nose like a seal before sliding it in the top corner of an impossibly covered net. Erroneous. He did a pre-mature spin-o-rama before slapping it into a woefully open five-hole. Who cares?! He got an otherwise uninspired Edmonton crowd to cheer for something, and I think that deserves props rather than admonishment. Moving on ....

(3) Waffles are the new tomatoes

Last week, following Phaneuf's completely unremarkable return to the lineup and yet another horrifying loss to a team I despise, one particularly aggrieved fan threw his waffles onto the ice, almost directly onto the stick of Francois Beauchemin (marking the first time all season that Francois Beauchemin's stick has been a part of anything worth mentioning). Now, the ACC doesn't serve waffles (they also don't provide sippy lids for their largest size of beer - a gross oversight, in my eyes, and the subject of my next strongly worded letter to the MLSE), which means that this fan must have cooked the waffles at home and smuggled them down his pants in in the sole hope of being provided with an opportunity to throw them at the Leafs. This is the kind of moxy that might otherwise be admirable if it made any sense whatsoever. Waffles? ..... Someone explain.

Everything's coming up Lia

Just when I thought the hockey world couldn't look any brighter, who waltzes into Carrie Underwood's music video at the 2:25 mark?




And just because I'm already here, posting videos, here is Garbo's beauty shootout goal from last night:

I need professional help

Saturday night's game against the Bruins is a perfect illustration of why I feel like I am in an abusive relationship.

As is glaringly obvious from my last post, the Leafs were becoming difficult for me to watch. I had begun to spend an inordinate amount of time moodily brooding over what went wrong, and what NFL team I could start following as some sort of sad respite from TML-induced pain. My leafs-related depression was getting so predictable and annoying that I had to start lying to people who asked me why I looked like someone just kicked my dog. The sympathetic looks that I used to get have been replaced with wagging fingers and "told you so" looks, or worse, the scoff of impatient indifference characteristic of someone who has heard me bitch about the same thing for too long when, really, I do it to myself.

As a result, I have been trying to move on. And just when my bags are packed and I'm about to move in with Mark Sanchez and the New York Jets, the Leafs give me the sports equivalent of the "I'll do better, I can CHANGE" talk - They win a game they had no business winning. On paper, the Leafs are worse than the Bruins in pretty much every single way. On top of that, the Bruins provide a painful glimpse into what the Leafs might have looked like (Rask, Knight, Seguin ....), making losses all the more difficult to stomach. So naturally, I anticipated a defeat of the soul-crushing variety. And then ... and then my special little guys show me a pulse.

How they didn't pack their bags in demoralized defeat after Tim Thomas made the following save, I will never know:




You win Leafs. You always do.

Denial and Anger

5-0.

TO THE OILERS.

A few people have asked me why I haven't posted lately. I've tried. I have started so many drafts, but they all end in capslocked rants.* I'm at a point where I wish I had never forsaken Catholicism, as it has now become clear to me that God hates me. I have bonded with people in bars over our mutual depression. My lovely roommate can do a frighteningly accurate impression of me post-game, and I get the distinct feeling that she's scared of me.

Bill Simmons tells me, in his amazing article outling the 20 steps to being a good fan, that I shouldn't ride the highs and lows so precipitously. When I ask fellow Leafs fan why they too aren't sobbing in the shower hugging their knees to their chest, they tell me that I just need to accept that they are bad and lower my expectations so that I won't be so brutally disappointed.

Apparently, acceptance is the fifth and final stage of grief. I am going to try to work my way through the five stages, so that I can eventually be at a place where, at the very least, people aren't scared to bring up the topic with me.

As pretty much everyone who has ever known me can attest, I have been in a state of Denial for the last 26 years of my life. I think I've got that stage covered.

Which brings me to Anger, aka, the "why me?" stage. And seriously, WHY ME?! I've been a good fan! I stuck by them through my 3 years of living in British Columbia, and more importantly, their DECADES of sucking. Every single family holiday, I fight with one of my family members (you know who you are ... and you better believe I've got ALL my Bruins jokes in my back pocket for December 24th) over them. I endure countless reiterations of the same jokes (sorry, how long has it been since we've won a Cup? And yah, maybe I WILL plan the Parade after we win two games in row. And wow, thank you for reminding me that we have no draft picks this year - I totally don't spend every day hating Brian Burke over that, and your original material is super inspiring). I understand the need to rebuild, and I know that draft picks aren't the only way to do so, and I am willing to be patient, and and and - I just don't see any progress. AND I'M ANGRY ABOUT IT. Stop cracking your sticks in frustration over the crossbar, and score some effing goals. Stop shit-talking your teammates during post-game interviews, and STOP with the ridiculous cross-ice passes TO NO ONE. Battle in the corners, get in front of the net, cover your man, PLAY BETTER HOCKEY. I hate you.

Next up: Bargaining.



*as this one now has - My apologies.