It is Thursday night.
I'm sitting on the edge of my seat, for professional hockey. I can't say with certainty that I've ever watched a NHL game with any real emotional investment since the lockout and yet there I was, sitting and rooting for the Carolina Hurricanes.
Now normally, I would never support the Hurricanes. Growing up only 20 minutes from Hartford I am probably the last generation old enough to remember the Hartford Whalers and normally, I would never support evil that they have now become. But they just happened to be playing the Bruins. The Boston Bruins.
And then, Scott Walker! Fist pumps abound in my bedroom as the the Hurricanes made sure that Zdeno Chara would be watching the Stanley Cup finals from his couch.
The Celtics had already gone down earlier that night to ensure a Game Seven against the Magic and the Bosox had been beaten for the second game in a row as the Yankees won their third straight.
Suddenly, it occurred to me: what if?
Growing up in New England I have had more than my fair share of encounters with, shall we say, enthusiastic Boston fans. My four years at Providence College may have been the most difficult sporting years of my life.
Not only did the school suck at everything while I was there but I had to endure a Patriots Superbowl victory and TWO Red Sox World Series championships (the first two in 86 years, and they had to come while I was in college in Rhode Island).
I did get a little joy back in my life after the Giants massive upset of the Patriots in '08 (A top five happiest sports related moment in my life, sorry Ryan) but suffice it to say that I had had my fill of Boston sports in the new millennium.
It was a long shot, but it was do able. The Red Sox losing out for the week, the Celtics going down in Game Seven, and of course, the Yankees extend their win streak to five.
I knew the Red Sox losing five straight was a long shot. But on Friday they kept the dream alive as the Yankees won again. The following night they managed a win, ensuring they wouldn't be swept by the lowly Mariners but the Yankees matched them with a walk off win in extra innings, their second straight.
Then came Sunday, judgment day.
First came the Yankees. I actually attended this game. Very good, fast paced baseball game. Intense and dramatic, but interestingly, once the Yankees tied it up (and then didn't blow it in the top of the eighth) I knew they would win eventually.
While it would have been incredible to see Gardner "steal" home in the bottom of the ninth, Damon's home run to give the Yankees their fifth straight win and third straight walk off to wrap up the week was more than suitable.
The Red Sox went down in the bottom of the ninth to the Mariners and only one more piece of the puzzle was needed. At this point I was hoping for the Celtics to lose so I could write this article practically just as much as I was just to see another Boston team go down.
8 PM. Tip off time. And the Celtics get pummeled.
The Magic weren't really interested in the same sort of dramatics that I was hoping to see. Every time the Cs tried to climb back in this one the Magic drained another three like a punch in Rajon Rondo's face.
KG would not be talking any trash from the bench in this contest. Celtics got within striking distance to close out the third only to get blasted to smithereens in the fourth.
Victory! Or should I say, Defeat! Victory and Defeat! Sweet sweet V/D, never felt so good. The Grave Dancer's Union is coming to see you tonight Beantown!
Of course, baseball season is far from over. A strong finish by the Sox could wipe away all of Boston's pain and my joy. But for now, after being up to my neck in Boston sports for the last nine years, it feels pretty good. Prettay, prettay good.