Game 7

So, Monday morning I get an email at work from Cullen saying that he has asked his "guy" if he can get me 2 tickets for game 5 at the Joe between the Wings and the Pens, where the Wings had a chance to skate the Stanley Cup. I didn't actually ever really think it was going to happen, and by afternoon we hadn't heard back, so whatever. That night, I was on the phone calling and texting almost everyone I knew. The Wings came back from a 2-0 deficit to take a 3-2 lead in the 3rd period. They absolutely dominated. It was some of the most incredible play I have ever seen from a team in any sport. Steph called to ask how the Penguins were able to score 2 goals! I said, "Ozzie", because it is always easier to blame the goalie than to actually pinpoint the exact reasons (Lilja and Stuart).

Late in the 3rd period, everyone was on their feet - this was the Wings' coronation, their 4th cup in 11 seasons, the second since I have lived here. I remember the Wings' Cup win in 2002 - I watched several of the games after work at a local bar called "The Arena", which is now best known as the final resting place of Cullen's wedding ring. However, when the Wings skated the Cup that year, I was at my apartment watching with Carrie, who was mostly asleep on the couch, despite my overzealous exclamations: "look how they all shake hands - all sports should have to do that"; "Boo Gary Bettman - if I had that level of job performance, they would have fired me by now"; "I wonder who will win the Conn Smythe - probably Lidstrom"; "There's the cup! This is so awesome!!"

Back to Monday night - under a minute left in the game, and everyone is going crazy in anticipation of the Cup. I am quite literally on the edge of my seat. Steph lets me know later that I should remind her of the last minute of this game so that she will watch more hockey (the best sport in HD, fwiw). Then it happened. 34 seconds left, and the Pens score. The wind is knocked out of me - I try to find a plate glass window to put my head through. Game tied, 3-3. Devastating.

Despite a flurry of activity at the end of regulation, the game goes to OT. Speaking of a "Fleury" of activity, 3 OT periods later behind the best goaltending ever, the Pens score to win after a Jiri Hudler penalty, and I am tired. I text my buddy Mike Ferguson, who is a big hockey fan, and basically threaten Chris Osgood's life and call for the Wings to call up Jimmy Howard to start game 6. Mike points out again that it really wasn't Ozzie's fault, and he is right. But still. Ugh.

Work on Tuesday sucks - I am exhausted, everyone is pissy and really just wants it all to be over. Because it should have been. Most of us had just assumed that it was over, and game 6 really feels like it should never have had to take place. We feel cheated out of the feeling that we all had up until 34 seconds remained. I can't believe we have to go to game 6 in Pittsburgh. I am thinking, I don't care if I get tickets to game 7 back in Detroit, I just want the Cup!

Then, so help me God, I get an email from Cullen saying that we have tickets to game 7 back in Detroit.

Let me put this in perspective - there are only 2 other situations that a sporting event would be as big as a home game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals for the Red Wings. They are just my team! The others would be: the Titans in the Super Bowl, and Michigan in the BCS championship game. (Actually, if Marshall somehow made the BCS title game, I would sell a kidney for tickets. Then I would let Mom go. Then I would sell my other kidney for 2 tickets - one for me, and one for the dialysis machine.) The only way that I could handle a game 7 for the Wings is if we had forced it by winning game 6, coming back from some sort of deficit.

Immediately I am torn, despite what I had just said about not wanting a game 7 - did I actually want there to be a game 7? The opportunity for the defining sporting moment of my lifetime? Or do I want my team to win and get it over with? I mean, the momentum would fully be on the side of Pittsburgh and Sydney the Kidney. (2 kidney references! I should call this my nephro-post.) The crowd would be more nervous than excited, and an early Penguins goal would have destroyed us. Monday night during overtime, I actually had to put the garbage can in front of me because I thought I was going to puke - no hyperbole, it is just when your heart rate is that elevated for that long, these things can happen. So, I didn't want to puke on anyone at the stadium if we ended up going on Saturday.

Opinions varied - Carrie thinks that having Cullen come up so we could go to it would be so awesome that she doesn't understand why I wouldn't root for it to happen. Mike said that he didn't care if he had seats on the bench for game 7, he would just want it to be over in Pittsburgh. Seriously though - Monday night, my heart rate was roughly 150 for 4 straight hours at least - I don't know if my body could take it again, especially in person.

Ultimately, I decided to root for my team to win and root against a game 7, and just keep the knowledge that even if worse came to worse, it would still be awesome. And with a 3-1 lead late in the game, it looked like the whole thing was a non-issue. Until Jiri Hudler again took a late penalty, and the Pens score with a minute and a half left to cut it to 3-2. Then so help me God, as time expired and the game and the hockey season ended, the puck was actually loose in the crease! It took a minute for me to process what had just happened and that the game was really over, and we had won! My heart rate went down from 230 to a more manageable 120 I think.

So the Red Wings won their 11th Stanley Cup in team history on Wednesday. I didn't get to see the Cup in person, and I didn't get to have the defining sporting moment in my life. But I don't care. I am so happy that we won and I am so happy that it is over. The texts were flying that night - me texting Mike about how awesome Ozzie was, then hearing from Steph about how she made Chip watch it all because it was all so fun, hearing from Cullen about how happy he was that he didn't have to come up this weekend. I even talked to Bill Bernard, the man who made me a Wings fan so many years ago. I think this may have been the first time I saw the championship team in a sport in person the year they won the title (thanks again to Cullen's ticket-getting abilities we were able to go as part of my bachelor party weekend, which still remains the best experience I have ever had in sports).

So I didn't get to see it all in person - I did get to watch it at my apartment with Carrie, who was mostly asleep on the couch, despite my overzealous exclamations: "look how they all shake hands - all sports should have to do that"; "Boo Gary Bettman - if I had that level of job performance, they would have fired me by now"; "I wonder who will win the Conn Smythe - probably Zetterberg"; "There's the cup! This is so awesome!!"