dear flames faithful:
last night was totally my fault.
it was extremely selfish of me to attend game 4 with the knowledge that the boys just can't win a playoff match with me in the building. the lure of heroin beers and pocketdawgs, coupled with an assuredly frenetic C of red ("sea of red" to the uneducated), was far too much for me to resist.
i just swim in the adoration of all those crimson flaming C jerseys and the [read slowly, MG] firespitters..... the thought of it..... *sigh*
i couldn't pass it up !!!
when there were but four minutes remaining, i honestly believed that my presence might have gone unnoticed by the hockey gods, and that the flames might actually pull off a victory. with nineteen-some-odd-thousand others dressed exactly like me, it's clear now that it just took the deities -----up in some ghostly pressbox----- seven seconds shy of a full game to zero-in on the fact that i was there.
puck, meet net.... and thank thornton for the introduction, dammit.
seriously ? i'm sorry, guys.
PS: i'd like to promise i won't attend game 6 but HELL is it fun in there.... ;)