Before tonight’s game, I wrote out a list of several things for which I am thankful, specifically concerning my favorite National Hockey League team, the Philadelphia Flyers. I wrote the list by hand in my dream journal, of course, but I’ve taken the liberty of transcribing a shortened version here:
- The amount of ginger facial hair they collectively possess
- Their excellent color scheme, which is neither boring nor obnoxious
- Social media maven Samantha Wood, who runs the best team twitter in the friggin’ league
- Their back-to-back Cup wins that, despite the fact that I didn’t get to see them, definitely still exist
- Their lack of teeth
- Wells Fargo Center because it isn’t the Barclays Center
- Shayne Gostisbehere, who looks like a movie and sounds like a song
I just wanted to remind you of reasons you support and love this team. After all, it’s the night before Thanksgiving! We should be thankful, no matter the outcome of this particular game. After all, we could be Penguins fans.
The Flyers got off to an incredibly good start. Their play was enough to make me say “yes, good,” several times, as they hemmed the Islanders in their own zone with several good shifts (even against the Tavares line) and forechecked well. I almost thought that, perhaps in some interesting plotline, the Flyers have just been pretending to be a fatally flawed team this entire time. Would they do that as a joke? As a form of punishment for us being annoying? I began to seriously wonder. They looked good! I’m serious!
As a nice reward for all that nice play, the referees gave the Flyers a power play, which was very cool of them to do. The first power play unit immediately got to work, Gostisbehere controlling play as a sort of quarterback. And this kid is no regular quarterback, friends. He is an Elite Quarterback. A gorgeous Ghost feed to Giroux was sure to make it in the net. And that it did. Top shelf. How fun. How wonderful. We were all having a great time, one big happy family.
Play progressed, and when the Flyers killed an Islanders power play, all seemed well. They were playing sound hockey. I was so pleased. It seems like forever ago, now. Back when I knew what joy was.
Play definitely shifted in the Islanders favor, but I thought to myself “that is bound to happen at some point!” Then, Nick Leddy, a Known Scoundrel, boarded Michael Raffl, who believes that mermaids are real. Does that seem fair? Does that seem right? Does it seem like the world operates on a system of justice? Not a chance. The world is cold and cruel, and it doesn’t give a single wet fart about you.
What even is there to say about the paltry power play that followed? The Islanders scored! God doesn’t exist! What else is new! And it was friggin’ Casey Cizikas! That name has too many consonants for my liking!
I took the intermission to calm myself down, as I have a tendency to start crying when I get too angry. It is very unhelpful, because no one takes you seriously when you’re crying. I cry a lot. You can put two and two together here, folks. It was one mistake. The Flyers could right the ship. These are the things I whispered to myself.
Then, uh, the second period started to happen. You couldn’t stop it. You could only watch. Kyle Okposo, a good dude who likes Harry Potter, scored on Mason. 2-1. I wish Okposo was a Flyer and not an Islander. I wish I was a different person. I wish so many things.
Claude Giroux thought things were bad, which I personally agreed with. In order to combat this badness, he decided to fight Nick Leddy, which again, I personally agreed with. Fuck Nick Leddy. The fight was nothing to write home about, because even if you are a weird person who writes letters about fighting, this was not even a good fight. No need to waste paper.
Wayne Simmonds fought someone, and it was a better fight, but still not a fun fight since the Flyers were losing and fights just annoy me when they’re losing. Emotions were clearly boiling over, as the Flyers played frenetically. That led to more after-whistle pushing and shoving than usual and even more physical play. From an unbiased standpoint, it was probably fun to watch. It’s not fun if it’s your team. Also, I was in a very bad mood. I am a sore loser.
I got ice cream during the second intermission, which definitely improved my mood. The Flyers seemed like their moods had improved as well, so maybe Hakstol let them have ice cream during intermission as well? I don’t know. It’s certainly a thought.
The play was too back and forth, too sloppy and off the cuff, for me to feel comfortable. As the period continued, I got more and more frustrated and bored, waiting for the Flyers to either do a thing or to let me go to bed. They had the audacity to do neither until the Islanders scored an empty net goal with only a minute left, which really ruffled my feathers. I was not thankful for that.
The game sucked, yes. The Flyers kinda suck, yes. But they are like the sweet, adorable new puppy that pees in your shoes. You love them anyhow. And you’ll try your damnedest not to kick them when they start tearing up the couch cushions.
Have a happy Thanksgiving, buddies. Remember what’s important and special in life. Go Flyers.
Comment of the Night:
twas the night before thanksgiving, and all through this thread,
the commenters were stirring, and scratching their heads.
the lines were looked over, and talked through with care.
in the hopes that Nick Schultz, would not be there.
the players were ready, all snug in their gear.
while Hak was deciding which tie to wear.
and me in my jammies, and you with your tea,
have just settled our brains, for this game to see.
>>TheEnglishGirl
