My how the tables have turned.
It seemed like only yesterday I was the one gearing up to watch my team in the Frozen Four, in a hometown setting no less, with thousands of my green-clad brethren. Now, a year after choking away that tourney as prohibitive favorites, I'm forced to endure the ignominy of watching not only one of, but the two teams I hate most in college hockey tangle in Thursday night's semifinal.
I want the power to go out.
I want the ice to melt.
I want anything to happen that will keep either Boston College or Minnesota from advancing to the season's final game. Because as we all know, this is the true final, the winner will be national champions again, and after all the torment I've endured, that just sucks.
This is not to say that these two teams don't deserve to be here, they were the best in the game for large portions of the season, and the best by a wide margin when it truly mattered. It's just that after years of being surrounded by Gopher fans, and having my heart ripped out by BC teams, I f*cking hate both of these schools. Usually the only people that will be happier than me to see the Gophers miss on a national title would be anyone with on-street parking in Dinkytown, but having to watch BC hoist another? That might be just as bad.
Not sure what to do here, can't root, don't even want to watch. But I will, because I can't help myself, so the question is, which is the greater of these two evils?
None of this is to be taken as personal, because it certainly isn't. There have only been a few Gopher fans in my life that I wanted to pummel in to dust, and it's been years since I felt that way about any of them. Most importantly, I've always restrained myself. As a matter of fact, just about all of my friends are Gopher fans. Not only do we share 99% common ground when rooting on Minnesota sports teams, but I'd do just about anything for them, up to and including giving up a kidney if the situation called for it. Let's not confuse people with fans here.
I'm also aware, and have stated more than once in this space, that every fanbase has it's annoying and embarrassing members. I know there's been more than one occasion when the actions of a fellow North Dakota fan have made me cringe and/or facepalm. I mean who can forget this classic? That's that's the number one result on YouTube when you type in "North Dakota fan", quite the proud legacy.
But with that said, there's one overwhelming reason why I have trouble jumping on board and back the maroon-and-gold against BC: Gopher hockey fans are a bunch of cunts.
Now I know that some people chafe at that word, particularly women, so I first want to say to the female readers of this blog (all three of you) there is no gender connotation associated with that word as it's used in this context. I'm using it more the British context, where it's really more akin to "jerk" or "f*ckhead". If you'll please read on, I will disabuse you of any notions of sexism that you may be harboring at the moment.
Because I'm certainly not accusing Gopher fans of acting like women (except on occasion when they channel Edina hockey moms when one of their precious cupcakes takes a big hit); if they were acting like women, they'd have better things to do than heckle me about college hockey. I'm accusing them of acting like f*cking cunts. Not to mention, that word has really gotten a worse rap than it deserves, as my pal Jim Jeffries explains (language NSFW, particularly if there are cunts in your place of employment).
Smug and self-important, with an inflated sense of their worth, that's the definition of cunty behavior in my book. Like the kid in high school who's daddy bought him a Lexus, or the bosses kid who gets made a VP despite not knowing what the company even does. They look down their nose at you, make condescending comments about everything but the actual matter at hand. F*cking cunts.
On the flip side of that, Boston College is a bunch of dicks. Just a bunch of huge dicks, rolling into everyone's good time and f*cking everything up. No manners, no regard for anyone but themselves, they'll show up at a party, drink all your booze, trash the place and leave you to pick up the pieces. You just want to crack one of them upside the head with a Louisville Slugger as soon as he walks through the door. Unfortunately that's the thing about dicks, they travel in packs, and even if you manage to lay the first one out, there's 3 or 4 more coming at you immediately.
Both dicks and cunts are annoying, but the dicks are much more frontal (Ha!). They're the guy that will knock the tray out of your hands in the lunchroom, spilling stuff everywhere. The cunt, on the other hand, will be over on the side of things, snickering at your misfortune, then bringing it up a few weeks later in mixed company, so you can be shamed anew.
(By the way, see what I did there? The insulting language is now gender-neutral. And just to prove I have a sense of humor, I'll continue the analogy by saying that North Dakota fans are the assholes of college hockey. They come in, spewing their sh*t everywhere, smelling like they forgot to wipe the manure off their shoes. You have to go out of your way to see one in the first place, and once you do, you wish you hadn't. Not to mention, they've been pounded by BC like they were in prison a couple of times, so there's that.)
So there it is, the battle is set, Cunts vs Dicks. I'd say I don't know which way to opt, but then you'd turn that into some clever double-entendre by saying something like "Oh yeah, I heard that about you". Instead, I'll just say f*ck them both...wait a minute, dammit, this isn't working like I'd planned.
Okay, backing away from that statement, let's just say that for all my hatred of the Bostonians, and feelings that I should lend support to my friends in their pursuit, I just can't do it. As they say, the dick across town is still more tolerable than the cunt who lives nextdoor, so here's hoping the dicks pound you cunts on Thursday.
But hey, given my success in beating these dicks in Frozen Fours, you're probably better off with me on the other side of things anyway.
Showing posts with label Frozen Four. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Frozen Four. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Friday, April 8, 2011
Michigan 2, North Dakota 0 - The hits just keep on coming
I have a tendency to get a bit wordy on these posts, so I will keep this one short and sweet. Yesterday the best chance that I will probably ever have in my life to see a team I root for win anything went up in smoke.
Kind of felt it comin with all the praise being heaped on the Sioux the past couple of weeks, definitely felt it once the game started and the team in green didn't resemble anything I'd watched over the past couple months. Michigan's goaltender and defense needs to be given credit, but at the end of the day, the Sioux just played lousy and couldn't cash in on any of their many opportunites. It was apparent watching two power plays in the first that the team simply didn't have it, and although the shots made it look lopsided, it was actually a fairly flat performance.
The best thing to do would be to move on and think about next season, but I believe I'll stew on this one a bit. Perhaps a dimly lit bar and a few glasses of whiskey are in order. Easier to shake these things off when they are unexpected. Setting your sights on a title all season long and going into the final two games as the favorite will lead to heartbreak when you fall short. Frankly I haven't been this depressed since the Vikings last NFC Championship loss. Don't want to think about next year, or even sports in general right now, just want to forget what just happened.
At least one thing got clears up, the universe is not sh*tting on the state of Minnesota, but on me personally.
Wish I could take back whatever it was I did to cause this.
I'll never root for a winner.
Kind of felt it comin with all the praise being heaped on the Sioux the past couple of weeks, definitely felt it once the game started and the team in green didn't resemble anything I'd watched over the past couple months. Michigan's goaltender and defense needs to be given credit, but at the end of the day, the Sioux just played lousy and couldn't cash in on any of their many opportunites. It was apparent watching two power plays in the first that the team simply didn't have it, and although the shots made it look lopsided, it was actually a fairly flat performance.
The best thing to do would be to move on and think about next season, but I believe I'll stew on this one a bit. Perhaps a dimly lit bar and a few glasses of whiskey are in order. Easier to shake these things off when they are unexpected. Setting your sights on a title all season long and going into the final two games as the favorite will lead to heartbreak when you fall short. Frankly I haven't been this depressed since the Vikings last NFC Championship loss. Don't want to think about next year, or even sports in general right now, just want to forget what just happened.
At least one thing got clears up, the universe is not sh*tting on the state of Minnesota, but on me personally.
Wish I could take back whatever it was I did to cause this.
I'll never root for a winner.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
The 2011 Frozen Four: More than just a game
I am a mess.
Since waking up Monday morning, my fear and loathing has grown to the point where it has become almost debilitating. I've lacked focus, lost sleep and spent long hours pondering the 'ifs' of what might unfold Thursday. In short, I've spent far too much time and energy thinking about something I have absolutely no impact on, short of perhaps being one voice in a crowd of thousands spurring my team on. This is the stuff that causes people I know to wonder why I follow sports in the first place. To most, my idiotic gyrations must seem either comical or sad. But this is the way I'm wired, and have never known another way to operate.
Sports is supposed to be entertainment. No doubt you've heard the cliches of "It's not life or death" and "It's just a game", repeated a hundred times over. The problem is, for millions of people throughout the world, the outcomes of these games means so much more than that. Maybe we overplay their significance because we just don't have enough important things going on in our lives. I will certainly cop to that, it's doubtful the teams I follow would take on the same importance if I had a child to look after (At least I hope so, for the kid's sake). But the whole thing is really much deeper than that.
Every college hockey season I renew acquaintances with old friends, many of which I haven't seen in some time. They are people who may not be the closest of friends, but are always a welcome sight wherever they happen to pop up. Sometimes it's an expected meeting, other times a random run-in at some far-flung arena or college town bar. Whatever the circumstances, it never gets old, be it in the form of an entire evening shooting the breeze, a quick drink, or a 2-minute chat in an arena concourse. Some will scoff at the notion, but these people are my college hockey family, and there's a similar set out there for every other team in every other sport.
Because there's a kinship among fans, even those of the worst teams. When the going gets tough, we lean on the collective, and the presence of like-minded individuals who know what we're feeling offers the strength to get back on that horse. Those who don't understand wonder why we cling to the same bad teams one heartbreaking year after another, asking why not just jump ship to another that offers better prospects for success? We don't do this because it would make us frauds in the eyes of those who we've struggled alongside. The past is prelude, and winning is meaningless if you sell out who you are to achieve it.
Am I doing a sufficient job of making this situation much grander and more complex than it ever should be? I certainly hope so. Lord knows how my sleeping might suffer should I stopped to think of just how much of my life revolves around grown men throwing a ball. But what people who don't follow sports will never understand are the connections between fans of the same team. Even if they are strangers thousands of miles from home, the sight of a familiar logo and simple question "You a ______ fan?" can be the only two steps needed to kick off a budding friendship. Or, should it be a rival, at least an evening of good-natured trash talk.
Our stuff beats your stuff, it's true. There will never be an Oscar debate that's as interesting as an MVP debate. Too subjective. No stats. There will never be a conversation about music or art that draws in so many people as equals. Too much accounting for tastes. No broader appeal. Sports are one of the few places you'll see two strangers with nothing in common but the color of their jerseys high-five and hug. One of the only environments where the opinions of Joe Sixpack carry the same weight as a six-figure executive. While admittedly imperfect for a host of reasons (bad calls, PEDs, disparate salaries) sports remain superior because they allow for debate on the minor points, yet require none for the major. Those are settled on the field, or ice, or diamond, decisively and with no equivocation.
Like many things in life, winning a title is as much about the journey as the destination, falling short a few times just adds to the sweetness once you finally break through. Only problem is, sometimes you start to wonder if the breakthrough will ever come. The last decade has been hard on my fellow Sioux fans and I. Sure there has been plenty of success, but also a ton of heartbreak in big games to accompany it. This will be the 11th season since the last Fighting Sioux national title, and 6th Frozen Four appearance in that span. I've gone into these games confident, nervous, just happy to be there, emotions have run the gamut. The only consistency has been in the results, no hardware.
This year's team has the feel of one that should get the job done, and everyone offering an opinion seems to think they're the team to beat. That's cold comfort to anyone who's watched enough hockey to realize how fickle the game can be, one bad bounce or hot goaltender is all it takes to derail even the best squad. Now with a week off to cool down from a dominant regional performance, who knows how it's all going to go? I guess all that I can say is that I'm happy to not see Boston College as the opposition, then I remember the other bench will be occupied by the winningest program in NCAA history, so careful what you wish for.
On paper, the Sioux should beat Michigan, and whichever team comes out of the Duluth-Notre Dame matchup. On paper they have the nation's best scorer, goaltender and deepest lineup. On paper, I should be fearless. But they don't play games on paper.
Most people in this town, including most of my friends, won't be rooting for North Dakota to win, which is understandable. If the shoe were on the other foot, I'd be cheering for just about anybody before I would their Gophers. But as much as a Sioux title might annoy them, I'd hope even the biggest UND hater could be happy for people like me, who put their heart and soul into this stuff, without a whole lot to show for it.
A friend of mine told me the other day that North Dakota winning the title is destiny. After all, it's been the worst year in recent Minnesota sports history, the hated Packers won the Super Bowl, a Sioux title would fit perfectly with the theme. Man I hope he's right, and my personal jinx isn't strong enough to trump the collective struggles of a state. Guess we'll find out soon enough.
Go Sioux.
Since waking up Monday morning, my fear and loathing has grown to the point where it has become almost debilitating. I've lacked focus, lost sleep and spent long hours pondering the 'ifs' of what might unfold Thursday. In short, I've spent far too much time and energy thinking about something I have absolutely no impact on, short of perhaps being one voice in a crowd of thousands spurring my team on. This is the stuff that causes people I know to wonder why I follow sports in the first place. To most, my idiotic gyrations must seem either comical or sad. But this is the way I'm wired, and have never known another way to operate.
Sports is supposed to be entertainment. No doubt you've heard the cliches of "It's not life or death" and "It's just a game", repeated a hundred times over. The problem is, for millions of people throughout the world, the outcomes of these games means so much more than that. Maybe we overplay their significance because we just don't have enough important things going on in our lives. I will certainly cop to that, it's doubtful the teams I follow would take on the same importance if I had a child to look after (At least I hope so, for the kid's sake). But the whole thing is really much deeper than that.
Every college hockey season I renew acquaintances with old friends, many of which I haven't seen in some time. They are people who may not be the closest of friends, but are always a welcome sight wherever they happen to pop up. Sometimes it's an expected meeting, other times a random run-in at some far-flung arena or college town bar. Whatever the circumstances, it never gets old, be it in the form of an entire evening shooting the breeze, a quick drink, or a 2-minute chat in an arena concourse. Some will scoff at the notion, but these people are my college hockey family, and there's a similar set out there for every other team in every other sport.
Because there's a kinship among fans, even those of the worst teams. When the going gets tough, we lean on the collective, and the presence of like-minded individuals who know what we're feeling offers the strength to get back on that horse. Those who don't understand wonder why we cling to the same bad teams one heartbreaking year after another, asking why not just jump ship to another that offers better prospects for success? We don't do this because it would make us frauds in the eyes of those who we've struggled alongside. The past is prelude, and winning is meaningless if you sell out who you are to achieve it.
Am I doing a sufficient job of making this situation much grander and more complex than it ever should be? I certainly hope so. Lord knows how my sleeping might suffer should I stopped to think of just how much of my life revolves around grown men throwing a ball. But what people who don't follow sports will never understand are the connections between fans of the same team. Even if they are strangers thousands of miles from home, the sight of a familiar logo and simple question "You a ______ fan?" can be the only two steps needed to kick off a budding friendship. Or, should it be a rival, at least an evening of good-natured trash talk.
Our stuff beats your stuff, it's true. There will never be an Oscar debate that's as interesting as an MVP debate. Too subjective. No stats. There will never be a conversation about music or art that draws in so many people as equals. Too much accounting for tastes. No broader appeal. Sports are one of the few places you'll see two strangers with nothing in common but the color of their jerseys high-five and hug. One of the only environments where the opinions of Joe Sixpack carry the same weight as a six-figure executive. While admittedly imperfect for a host of reasons (bad calls, PEDs, disparate salaries) sports remain superior because they allow for debate on the minor points, yet require none for the major. Those are settled on the field, or ice, or diamond, decisively and with no equivocation.
Like many things in life, winning a title is as much about the journey as the destination, falling short a few times just adds to the sweetness once you finally break through. Only problem is, sometimes you start to wonder if the breakthrough will ever come. The last decade has been hard on my fellow Sioux fans and I. Sure there has been plenty of success, but also a ton of heartbreak in big games to accompany it. This will be the 11th season since the last Fighting Sioux national title, and 6th Frozen Four appearance in that span. I've gone into these games confident, nervous, just happy to be there, emotions have run the gamut. The only consistency has been in the results, no hardware.
This year's team has the feel of one that should get the job done, and everyone offering an opinion seems to think they're the team to beat. That's cold comfort to anyone who's watched enough hockey to realize how fickle the game can be, one bad bounce or hot goaltender is all it takes to derail even the best squad. Now with a week off to cool down from a dominant regional performance, who knows how it's all going to go? I guess all that I can say is that I'm happy to not see Boston College as the opposition, then I remember the other bench will be occupied by the winningest program in NCAA history, so careful what you wish for.
On paper, the Sioux should beat Michigan, and whichever team comes out of the Duluth-Notre Dame matchup. On paper they have the nation's best scorer, goaltender and deepest lineup. On paper, I should be fearless. But they don't play games on paper.
Most people in this town, including most of my friends, won't be rooting for North Dakota to win, which is understandable. If the shoe were on the other foot, I'd be cheering for just about anybody before I would their Gophers. But as much as a Sioux title might annoy them, I'd hope even the biggest UND hater could be happy for people like me, who put their heart and soul into this stuff, without a whole lot to show for it.
A friend of mine told me the other day that North Dakota winning the title is destiny. After all, it's been the worst year in recent Minnesota sports history, the hated Packers won the Super Bowl, a Sioux title would fit perfectly with the theme. Man I hope he's right, and my personal jinx isn't strong enough to trump the collective struggles of a state. Guess we'll find out soon enough.
Go Sioux.
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