So, my hockey team, despite being a few games under .500, was in the playoff hunt. Going into our last game we were 1 point behind the 3rd place team. We needed a win and loss by them or a tie and a loss by them (as we owned the head-to-head advantage).
We were playing the first-place team (allegedly short-handed, but not understaffed). At the start of the second period, I noticed that 5 or 6 of the guys from the 3rd place team were behind the glass. Ok . . . ? Their game wasn't until Thursday, but surely 24 hours was enough time to discover the outcome of our game. I also found it odd they were at my end as there were some nice bleachers to occupy, but whatever, people stand there all the time.
I let one in at the beginning of the 2nd period. Wasn't too horrible of a goal to give up, the guy kind of backhanded swatted an on-edge, rolling puck right into the corner of the net. (I will admit to the soft prejudice of low expectations. I had seen him moving around and determined he would need to settle the puck before shooting. But kudos to him for just whaling at it. Though I'd give him 20-to-1 against doing it again on one try.)
This goal tied the game at 1. Shortly thereafter, we scored again. That made it 2-1 us (if you're incredibly bad at math/short-term memory). There was no more scoring in the 2nd.
3rd period starts. I skate down to the other end, have some water, wring out the headband dealie in my helmet (yah, sweat. yah, nasty.) and look over and what do I see? The 3rd place team watching me. Totally. They followed me down to the other end. Who is that motivated to walk to the other end of the ice? No one. They were trying to put the bad juju on me! Fortunately, theMonica's mom is old school and probably has created a bubble of invulnerability around me for voodoo blocking.
At any rate, I showed them. I got lucky 2 or 3 times but none of it was bad luck and we ended the game with the win, 2-1.
So, yes, I do win sometimes, but my lifetime winning percentage over all sports is poor. 40%? I'm not sure. I always fall in with guys that "just want to have fun" or "hey, we all need to get to work in the morning" or "won't bring in a bunch of ringers to win the important games" (an amazing number of teams do this, which I find odd).
The lesson here is: I can't be beaten. I can be beaten because I suck, but I can't be beaten by psychic powers.
Labels: a long story about nothing that will interest you, hockey, sports