Score!

Tuesday was the trade deadline for the NHL, so I was quite interested to see what would happen with our local Hurricanes team. What happened is that we got a Finnish player (Tuomo Ruutu) from the Chicago Blackhawks, and he set out for Raleigh in a hurry, only to arrive at the arena about 15 minutes before the game on Tuesday night. We had acquired a few other players in the previous few weeks, one of whom -- a young and promising forward -- had been injured when he got here and had yet to play, but had been cleared for action on Tuesday night. So, Tuesday's game promised to be interesting since we'd have two new guys on the ice who were experienced NHL players.

I make this distinction because the Hurricanes have had a whole lot of trouble staying healthy enough to play the game. This means we have new players all the time -- players called up from the minor leagues (Go Albany River Rats!) because we don't have enough regular NHL players healthy on any given night to make up a whole team. This has been rather amazing to watch, if a bit distressing. A fan made a comment to the effect of "I'm kind of getting tired of the cruel joke the hockey gods are playing on us... it's like they say, 'Yes, you can have a win, but it will cost you a player.'" One of the most recent heads on the chopping block of said gods was our captain, Rod Brind'Amour. He's not very pretty to look at, his name is difficult to spell, and he's nearing his hockey expiration date, but he was the backbone of the team... and he's out for 4-6 months with a knee injury. A quick check of the calendar tells me he'll be sitting out this Stanley Cup run, even if the rest of the team manages to get in the race.

So, back to Tuesday...
The Hurricanes were scheduled to play the New Jersey Devils at home, and they went into the game on what amounts to a 16-year losing streak against the Devils (as either the Carolina Hurricanes or the Hartford Whalers, which was the Hurricanes' previous incarnation). That's a whole lot of losing, and not much reason for hope. It doesn't help our cause that Martin Brodeur was to be in goal for the Devils, since he might as well bring some pleasure reading or a manicure set with him onto the ice most of the time; he makes tricky saves look so effortless and boring. He is also the idol of most of the young goaltenders in the NHL now (including the one staring at him from across the ice on the Hurricanes' side) and makes grown women (and men, for that matter) swoon.

However, I was hopeful that this would at least not be a blow-out loss. In spite of my natural bent towards melancholy and my rather deeply ingrained cynical streak, I have faith the size of a dust mite once in a while. I mean, we have new blood on the team. We also have a group of guys -- at this point, who cares if six of them are River Rats? -- who have been working exceptionally hard for the last few weeks and have started winning again against all odds.

I was really looking forward to this game. Really, really, really. Really.

At 5:45 I went to the TV to program it to record the 7pm game. However, the game was not there. There was a whole lot of other semi-sports-related hooey scheduled. But no Hurricanes game. The local stations dropped the ball, so to speak, so that I would miss the dropping of the puck, because they decided not to cover game late enough that Center Ice had not lifted the local blackout, which was our only other obvious alternative. I wanted to cry.

Put it this way - it's a deadline week at work and I have been putting in long hours in between extra-curricular activities. I've also felt "normal" for the first time in ages. My post-op appointment went well, and I can get back to regular activity, except at least one of the things that brings me great joy is no longer open to me in the same way -- I have had to drop out of our choir. For now, I still have hockey, and I really look forward to the games as a way to unwind (and get wound up differently, of course), because it is something I can enjoy, whatever else may be going on.

It was no time to panic. It was merely time to formulate and try plan C. (This is when I am glad that my husband who liked hockey well enough to try to play it himself is nearly as obsessed with hockey as I am now.) Dan was on his way home, and I called him with my dilemma and my sales pitch. There was just time enough to get to the RBC Center if we decided to go immediately. We did, and we did.

That game turned out to be not only the best game I have ever seen (which isn't saying much, considering that my love for hockey is about a long-lived as a Hollywood marriage so far), but our boys in red shut the door on the Devils in sudden-death overtime and prompted several people to say that this game was play-off hockey minus the playoffs... gritty, hard-hitting and very exciting. Our boys beat Martin Brodeur, even if it took a sacrifice to the hockey gods of a concussion (from defenseman Tim Gleason) AND 40 stitches from gashes to the face that left a trail of blood all the way across the ice (from our just-arrived Ruutu) to get it done. Making it even sweeter, both goals were scored by one of my favorite players, also a new recruit -- Sergei Samsonov, a talented player who had been in a serious career slump before coming to us.

The icing on this hockey cake was the brilliant selection of awful arena music all evening. Sometime around the middle of the game, our ears were greeted by the semi-melodious screeching of Mötley Crüe's Shout at the Devil. That brought a snicker or two from the two of us, anyway. However, when Samsonov swept his own rebound in to make the winning goal, what to our wondering ears would appear, but Stryper's To Hell with the Devil? Ah... sports and hair bands. Who knew that love-affair would last? Tuesday night ended in triumph.

Wednesday brought dinner at a local restaurant/bar where Patrick Eaves -- the aforementioned young and promising Hurricane forward -- was doing a live radio interview and signing autographs. We sat and watched and listened over food and drink. His first game on the ice for the Hurricanes was the excellent game the night before, and even if his performance in the game was nothing to blog about, he was kind enough to sign my ticket from the game, and pose for pictures. He turned out to be a very nice guy, too. Now, if he can also turn out to be a fabulous player for years and years with the 'Canes, we're all set.

(Daniel and Patrick in their co-ordinating v-necks, and Patrick during the interview)

As much fun as the hockey has been, we're postponing our enjoyment of tonight's Hurricanes/Ranger game so that we can spend time with two of our closest friends here in the area -- a lovely couple who treated us to dinner and bowling last week... which was fun, even if the shoes were a bit unfashionable. Tonight, we're going with them to one of our favorite restaurants. I'm very much looking forward to that.

When it comes right down to it, I've really, truly enjoyed this week. It's been great to feel physically normal again. It's fun to be in an area where we can enjoy our favorite spectator sport at such short range and in such a personal way. It's nice to have friends and access to great restaurants. It's also nice to be reminded (even if it is by a hockey team) that adversity has a way of bringing out the very best in us if we keep working hard and believing that better things are in store. In short, this week, I'm feeling quite happy and blessed.

Score!(Yes, we were laughing, hence the goofy smiles)