This will be a eulogy in three parts. Bear with me, as I am in pain. Parts 2 and 3 can be found here.
There is about five minutes to go in the second period as I begin to write this.
Phil Kessel has just scored coming out of the penalty box to make it 3-1 for Boston and Michael Ryder has added his second goal of the game.
Goals, excruciating slices, being exactly the knives they ought to be, in this disappointing season.
Replays are now showing that Kessel’s backbreaking goal was offside, as fans jeer Carey Price for a routine save, and he reacts as Patrick Roy did a decade or so earlier in a similar situation.
Two wrongs don’t make a right, I think
Now, the Canadiens have just received that gnawing delay of game call for shooting the puck over the glass.
How much more can a fan take.
I hate that rule, just like fans of 29 other teams do. I hate how this whole entire season feels like a set up. A joke, and I’m the punch line.
I can feel a world of Habs haters laughing away. We’ve had our moments. They are now having theirs. I understand this. But I am empty, angry, and for a few moments, unconsolable.
Off goes the TV and off I go the beer store. I need to become comfortably numb. Right now, I am uncomfortably numb.
