Tonight’s Game 1 of the Stanley Cup finals and I’ll be watching it. At home. With my husband. I think there are two kinds of sports fans, and my husband and I are not the same kind.
I’m an optimistic sports fan. I believe my team will win, right up until the final whistle blows or horn sounds. And I believe it hard. The Bruins could be down 5-1 in the last minute of the third period and I still believe they’ll win. Maybe the other team’s goalie will twist his ankle and have to leave the game and his back-up will trip on the ice coming in and get a concussion and the back-up back-up guy will suck and then bam bam bam bam, it’s all tied up and anybody’s game.
Hell, in the 1990 season, I believed my Patriots would win the Super Bowl. I believed it with all my heart right up until they said it was mathematically impossible for them to even make the play-offs. (This came embarrassingly early in the season since we only won one game that year and it was early in the season.) But I believed. (And that only team we beat the year we were officially, statistically the worst team in the NFL? The Colts. HA!)
I believe in miracles, Al.
My husband is what I call Angry Jerkface sports fan. (I bet you thought I was going to say pessimistic). It can be only half-way through the first period and the other team can score one goal and I have to listen to “The Bruins are playing like shit. They don’t deserve to win. This game’s as good as over.”
I hate watching games of any sport with Angry Jerkface sports fans. And even worse? When an Angry Jerkface sports fan has given up so totally he wants to change the channel. And miss the greatest comeback in the history of the sport? NO. Because I just know that’s what will happen if we change it. (Yes, I’m often disappointed…but not always.)
2004. Red Sox dropped the first three games of the ALCS to the Yankees. I still believed. Between Game 3 and Game 4, I was at our local house of pizza and told them I still believed the Red Sox would win. There were snorts of derision and pitying looks. But they won four games in a row. And took Game 7 at Yankee Stadium. And yes, I said I TOLD YOU SO to every Angry Jerkface sports fan I saw because I told them so.
Unfortunately, while he swings back and forth in a most annoying manner, the Short Kid leans toward Angry Jerkface sports fan. (And the Tall Kid thought wide receivers were called catching backs, so we won’t even talk about him. He’s clueless non-sports fan.) I’m trying to teach my youngest to believe in sports miracles, but I have a feeling being Angry Jerkface sports fan is a genetic flaw he inherited from his father.
So, I’m gearing up to watch my Bruins win the Stanley Cup. Because I believe they will and I’ll keep believing until the final horn, even if Angry Jerkface gives up.












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