Two Losses, Shakespearean Cosmology

The Games: Avs at Flames (AGAIN) and Avs at Canucks

This weekend, I officially crossed one item off the old "List of Things To Do Before I Die" (watch a game at ESPN Zone, an establishment I can only describe as "soulless"), and added an item to the lesser-known "List of Things Never To Do Again" (patronize a bar with an escalator in it).

The Altitude Network broadcast live from ESPN Zone during Saturday's Flames game. Although apathetic waitstaff, overpriced Velveeta cheese, and camera-hungry drunkards who may or may not have been able to point out Calgary on a map annoyed, I had a cold beer and a good friend (on whose recomendation we quickly left for Old Chicago) at hand, and the game started out well, despite Vaananen's game misconduct ejection for an ill-advised early hit.

Leading 2-1 in the second, the Avs lost momentum, plagued with miscommunications and penalties. In the third, Wolski sustained a mild concussion. It looked much worse, as he tried to stand up after the hit and fell immediately back to the ice.

FINAL

Avs 2
Flames 5

Thanks to the stellar bartending staff at Old Chicago, I was treated with Springboard Ale, the Spring special release from New Belgium. Appropriately, it's almost pastel yellow. And quite refreshing.

On Sunday, my hopeful but ironic beverage choice was "Levity" Amber Ale from O'Dell's. Named as such for its light color and its proposed effect on the drinker, it's not as bitter as some other red beers, and is very easy to drink. Good stuff. It occurs to me that I don't have a very sophisticated beer palate. Or beer vocabulary.

The Avs worked hard, and outshot the Canucks 36-20, putting an impossible 4 goals past "Nothing Can Stop Me!" Luongo. Richardson scored while the Avs were shorthanded, and Brunette was credited with two just for being in the right place at the right time. Unfortunately, Theodore was less effective, and he and poor Ken Klee are in the doghouse after an awful loose puck gaffe in the 3rd. Theo went to cover it, and Klee swatted it out, right onto the stick of Sedin for a goal.

FINAL

Avs 4
Canucks 5

A recent trip to Tattered Cover Bookstore afforded me The Essential Hockey Haiku and a copy of Shakespeare's Philosophy. I've been studying King Lear lately, as I'm going to see it on Saturday at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts. Lear's central theme stems from the line "nothing can come from nothing," spoken early in the play by the King to his favorite and most genuine daughter. This semi-existential summation of the creation question hearkens back to Job's "everything is vanity," but, in the context of the play, better equates to "everything is tragedy." Even the purest love and best intentions are rewarded with shame and death. Love does not conquer all -- sometimes, every safeguard, every hope falls through, and there you are, mangled, despised, and alone.

All this is just to say that, when I go so far as to say "I love hockey," I acknowledge that I am inviting a certain amount of pain into my life. As Skrastins said, "pain is part of the job." I think that goes for the fans, too. I believe that both cameraderie and competition are ingrained in the human psyche, and that it is therefore perfectly legitimate for a fan to take a loss as a blow. We may not play the game, but we are certainly invested in it.

But that's what a committed relationship is, then. For better or worse, right? Although you marry someone assuming that your collective characteristics and behaviors will combine in a fruitful way, there is no way to predict what will happen. In the same way (veteran bloggers, do you recall the moment you realized that hockey is metaphorical for EVERYTHING? [tear]), an exeptional player or team may not perform to expectations, and no amount of skill can change the fact that a puck is a puck (is a puck? Thank you, Gertrude Stein), ice is ice, and humans are...you understand.

That said, I love my husband, and I hope we can work it out. Similarly, I love hockey, and am willing to take even the most painful loss in stride in hopes that maybe -- just maybe -- there might be better days ahead.

Best Friends Forever!

--Satanella