Raleigh. NC
I am not a major hockey fan, but I hopped on the Buffalo Sabre bandwagon a few weeks ago. Tonight was Game 7 versus Carolina, the winner would get to the Stanley Cup Finals. I went to Tully’s, a sports bar in Henrietta to watch with my sister, her fiancée’ and a few of his friends. All the guys played college hockey and one of them is a major Buffalo guy. The packed bar echoed as Buffalo scored with 3 seconds left in the 2nd period to move ahead 2-1. We didn’t say it, but many of us were looking to Edmonton and the Cup. Yet, the 3rd started and not 2 minutes in, Carolina scored. The game ended in a thud and a 4-2 loss. We left deflated. The true fans were satisfied they had gotten this far, but this newly acquired fan expected more. There was a chance I could’ve gone to a Cup game. I wanted it all. The Buffalo fans said this is what it was like to root for the city’s team: So close, yet so far. The Bills and 4 losing Super Bowls. The Sabre’s losing in the finals on a questionable call. Their hopes are high, and they get dashed.
On the 25 minute drive back home I thought about it. Is Game 7 like crucial times in life, a win or go home moment? A time that will set us on the path for years and years? Do we make our Game 7’s or do they just find us? How many chances at a Game 7 do we get? Is it like Eminem says, do we only get one shot? Have I had my shot? Then what?