Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Why am I so sad
Why am I so blue
The Oilers lost the cup
To Carolina, true,
This shouldn’t really matter
My deadline is still looming
And it isn’t natural to be playing indoors on ice
While outside the pansies are blooming
Okay, so it isn’t Wordsworth. Or even Seuss, but it’s the cry of my heart and that’s gotta mean something.
And now . . . (Scriptural sigh) it’s over. I haven’t had any stake in the Stanley Cup for many years so the past few weeks have been a wild ride. Probably a good thing the Oilers have been in a bit of a slump in the years since I started writing. I get emotionally involved in the games and the players. When the Oilers win, I write well. When they don’t, I just write. There’s a reason we don’t have television. I would be the one intent on the game, remote in hand, while my husband dawdled around, whining ‘honey, come to bed.’
As a young girl I used to watch television, hands clasped, leaning as close to the television as my vigilant mother would let me, praying (yes, I’m shallow) that my team would win. I didn’t understand why God wouldn’t be rooting for my team. They were the best. They were the deserving ones. And yet, when I would see the dejection of the teams that my guys finished wiping the ice with, I couldn’t help feeling bad for them as well.
So I’m reaching back to those more innocent emotions and trying to be happy for the ‘Canes and the fans who might be as superficial in their intercessory prayers as I was. And happy for the editor of Beckett Hockey Monthly who cavalierly predicted the Hurricanes victory only to cringe when the Oilers made their startling come-back. Being happy for these people is the Christian thing to do. At least I didn’t kick the cooler across the kitchen like my nephew did. (Mind you, my son has my cooler and I was in sock feet. So, no kicking.)
I just wish my dad could have seen his beloved team make their unprecedented run to the cup.
And now it’s time to pay attention to that looming deadline and get back to more important things. Like trying to find emotionally gripping ways to say, “She walked down the hall”.