The Worst Four Words in Hockey

"Saturday morning, summer starts."

Could anything be sadder to a hockey fan? Sure, there is the draft, and free agency, and all of the speculation and rumor-milling that go with those two events. For Wild fans, there is a hope that our new savior, I mean GM, will shake up the team and give us a whole new look next season. There is always going to be some excitement in the hockey world for a diehard fan. Something is always going on.

But for the next four months, there will be no games. Not one. Nothing. Might as well join the 4 million people who seem to still not understand the switch to digital TV, and let my TV go to static. Seriously people, how hard is it? Drop the ten bucks, go get the box, hook it up.

Back to the article. Mr. Farber does what few in the main stream media can do. He gives hockey some flare, some excitement. I have never understood how people can find hockey boring, but they do, and articles like this one make people think twice about that. Think about it. 82 physical, brutally violent games per team over the course of seven months, only to be thrown into a grueling, winner takes all tournament that has brought out the very best and the very worst in hockey players. Guys play with broken bones, refuse to miss shifts to have stiches put in open wounds. This IS the reason everyone who has ever laced up skates ever did so.

The Stanley Cup. Easily the most recognized trophy in sports. Likely at the top of the list of the most difficult to win as well. A silver thing that has a beauty even in its simplicity of design. A chalice that so many have sought, and yet so many have failed to touch. Win it, and you get to spend a day with it doing whatever you want. Lose, and you get to go home and read stories about what the guys who won it are doing with it on their day.

For those of you who read regularly, I have not been following the playoffs. Burnout, apathy, whatever it was, I did not care. The Wild were out and I had better things to do. Well, guess what? I'm back, and I'm in. There is nothing like a game 7 in the Stanley Cup Finals. Nothing.i watched the Twons win the World Series in 1991. 10 innings, Jack Morris, Dan Gladden. Final score, 1-0, Twins. That was pretty cool. It has nothing on a game seven with the Cup on the line.

I will not post any quotes from the article except the four words already used. Go read it. Its good, I promise. You know me, I don't generally like much of the writing from the MSM about hockey. This one is good. Enjoy it. Soak it in. Then, get your dishes done, the laundry folded, gas up the vehicles, hit the liquor store, and get the food ready. Once Game 7 starts, you best have NBC tuned in and ready to go. Because this is it. The last game of the year. There is no tomorrow, blah blah blah, fill in cliche here. Just keep in mind:

"Saturday morning, summer starts."

-Buddha