Red Army: Let's Pick Up Where They Left Off

Watching the final seconds tick off of the game Capital's season last night, I became paralyzed by conflicting emotions racing through my bloodstream. Anger, despair, sorrow, agony, confusion, and most of all that feeling that encompasses "Whyyyyyyy?!?!?" washed over me like feral waves, clouding my mind with rash ideas that ranged from impure to downright sadistic. The horn sounded and the sea of blue- one so artificially manifested with free t-shirt giveaways- celebrated. Joe B's apologetic eulogy blended with the metallic, monotone typing of angry bloggers pounding away on their keyboards to form a symphony the lot of us listened to as we sat back in disbelief and watched the last embers of Rome land at our ashen feet.

It was over.

And yet, as grizzly a scene it was, watching #8, #19, and #30 hang their heads low and disappear into the shadows of the runway tunnel, not to be seen again for five or so months, I couldn't help but notice the joy the team in blue was experiencing, raising their sticks to salute their crowd, knowing that in a week or so, they would be defending that very sheet of ice with even more on the line. And so a smile cascaded down my face. Because that is what is beautiful about hockey. No other sport lends itself so easily to the upset. No other sport features such a delicate balance of skill and luck. No other sport drives fans and players alike, so batshit crazy.

And this whole episode, one which started in the crisp autumn evenings of last October and ran up until last night, was a warning. A warning that the prestigious record you accumulated in regular season, the highlight reel goals you scored, and the superfluous number that precedes your team's name on a bracket means absolutely nothing. The only thing that matters is making the playoffs and executing in the playoffs. Some teams thrive in the do or die environment and some teams don't.

For the Red Army, it's time to prove once again, that though their heroes have faltered, they will not.



Round 2: Sunday, May 8th vs. TBD

And, for those of you sullen and looking for a song that perhaps puts into words what you cannot, here you go. Enjoy?