Monday, January 02, 2006

I say Chicago Wolves 11...

Chicago Bears 10.

Back in the day, say around March 2004 (scroll down to "In The Sticks"), my beloved Chicago Wolves drew more fans to their game than the Original Six team, The Chicago Blackhawks. Not a very good day for the Hawks, to say the least. I hear tell that that particular news item even made it to CNNSI.com, but I know that it was on Yahoo! news (sorry, I can't find the article).

You know what headline will never grace any newspaper, magazine, website, or blog? This one:

Chicago Wolves outscore Chicago Bears.

Except, of course, for here. My blog, that is. Mine will even include the fact that I said to more than one person after returning from the game that I wouldn't be surprised if the Bears didn't manage to score more than the Wolves did. I can arrange for witnesses, if necessary.

I'm not saying that the game was fun to watch. Sure, everyone likes to see a goal, but 11? Not so much. It got embarrassing. After goal 6 (7 were scored in the second period alone) I couldn't do much other than half laugh and half cry. It was just silly. Ask Sass. I was even tempted to ask if she wanted to leave early. I didn't, though. Deep down inside, despite all the silliness, I was having a great time. Not to mention that I had to find out who the hell was going to get the three stars of the game, what with 9 players scoring and not exactly a stellar performance in goal by either team- both goalies for both teams were pulled at least once, some more than that.

More stories from the weekend, as promised, will be delivered. Right now, I'm going to finish the rest of my sketch which a certain someone brought for me, which scored millions of points in the Whose Line is it Anyway of my life. The points in my life, however, do count.

1 Comments:

Blogger Postmodern Sass said...

Just so's you know, I would not have wanted to leave early, had you asked. No matter what happens, I always stay until the end of the game.

I'm a big believer in Murphy's Law. The one time you leave five minutes before the end of the third period because you're bummed that your team is down 3-0, is the time that they'll come back with three quick goals in the last five minutes, then win in overtime. And you'll be in your car, listening to it on the radio, and drive into a telephone pole.

In the case of last Friday's Wolves game... well, at the rate both teams were scoring in the third period, the final score might have ended up really being 47-23.

Which is what it will be in my story, when I get around to writing it. Because I like to fabricate details, as you know.

10:00 PM  

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