The Aftermath

I love my Pens

For a number of years I wrote another blog that evolved into walking my readers through the journey grief takes you on.  I wrapped it up and flopped over here to try and start a new chapter in my life.  Of course, I'm still me at the core, so some of those same themes have come with over with me.  And one of the things I wrote about a lot was using sports as a "tool" to cope with loss.  I cautioned readers about doing that too fully, but I didn't always follow my own advice.  I never have.  Long ago, before even all the personal drama began, I was a co-dependent fan.  Sometimes that was funny, sometimes it was perhaps a little heartbreaking, mostly it was probably just pathetic.  I'm the woman who had to excuse herself and go into the laundry room after the Steelers lost to the Patriots in the championship game in early 2002 so I could cry.  And I didn't just cry a little.  I sobbed.  My heart ached not just because I wanted it for myself, but because I wanted it so badly for all the players.  I wanted Coach Cowher to go back to the Super Bowl and win it this time.  I wanted it because I hate the Patriots and their smug, model-handsome quarterback and evil, cheating coach (although, I've confess that none of us knew he cheated back then).  I feel like every hurt "my" team suffers cuts me as well.  I've got some major boundary issues.  But, what I know now is that I am far from alone.  And moving here has put a big point on that fact.

So along come the Penguins and it's just one more sports franchise I blur the lines with.  Don't get me wrong and don't go calling the police to tell them I'm a stalker - I've got enough issues over the barking dog thing.  I don't look for players when I'm out.  If I happen to see one - we did bump into a few young Steelers one morning at Deluca's last fall - I try not to harass them or hold them up.  They're human beings with things to do and places to go; I don't need to get in the way of that.  They give me what I want and ask of them when they suit up and take the field or the ice.  But I do "care" for them and feel protective of them because what it is they give me is a lot of joy.  An escape from all the worldly cares I have for a few hours.  They give me a feeling that I belong to a larger community than just little ol' me:  I am a member of the Steelers Nation, for example.  I feel they've earned my loyalty in return.

But in sports, as in life, a little rain will fall.  And there will be moments that are tough and cause us to share in disappointments. This week is such a time.  Literally and figuratively.  The Penguins are out of the playoffs in a shocking series loss to the Rangers when they had them on the ropes at one point leading 3 games to 1.  Therefore, you can imagine there is some fan grumbling.  If you're from outside the area what you likely can't imagine is the level and acidity of the grumbling.  It's like every single Penguin, Sidney Crosby included, personally stabbed everyone's beloved grandmother in the heart with a screwdriver and is getting away with it.  For me, the venom in the remarks people are making just adds to my own personal disappointment.  I tried turning on the radio after Boston also lost in their game 7 thinking that might mitigate things:  I lasted three minutes before I had to turn it off again.  The talk I did hear was centered on whether the Pens should hire Mike Babcock to replace Dan Bylsma.  Seriously?  I could live with that choice, no doubt, but think about what you're saying:  he barely got his team into the playoffs and they were ousted in the last round.  Why do you suddenly think he's the savior of the franchise?  Even if you can answer that, what makes you think he's stupid enough to even take this job?  I wouldn't.  Because the expectations here are just unreal, and if you don't deliver, the fan base will turn on you like the Hulk losing control.

I've written elsewhere about the Pittsburgh psyche when it comes to sports.  There was a huge loss of identity and prestige when the steel industry fell.  Men who had worked hard all their lives to provide for their families were suddenly brought down low by unemployment with no other skills or even jobs available to turn to.  So, the Steelers rise in the 70's gave them back some pride and a reason to smile.  We became the City of Champions, not the dirty, failed city along three rivers.  But we've never let that identity go.  People haven't seemed to separate what happens on the field with what happens to them.  It's an amazing electricity when the teams are winning as a result.  But when they lose...  Let's just say, I would leave town for a few days myself if I could just to get away from it, I hope every single member of the Penguins organization has packed some bags and hit the road.

But I sit here and look at the cup (pun somewhat intended) and see it half full.  I seem to be the only one.  I see a team that's made it to the playoffs eight years running.  I see a team that's won its division two years in a row, made it to the eastern finals last year and is a three time Stanley Cup winner overall.  I see great and talented players who we're lucky to get to come see in person 40+ times a year in a beautiful facility.  I am so proud to be a Penguins fan.  I'm just not terribly proud of the rest of my fellow fans right now.

I admit it, I cried like a baby after the game.  My husband asked me to call him, knowing I was here alone and that I would take it hard.  I couldn't. I didn't want to talk even if I thought I could.  I knew it meant that it'll be at least one more year before I can get that cup year back that I lost in 2009.  It's one more May and June that I won't have Penguins playoff hockey to distract me through rough reminders of all the others things I've lost in my life.  But, I was right when I cautioned all of us here a few weeks ago:  our days march on much as they would if the series had gone another way.  Our daily routines are much the same one way or the other. Now we just have more time to go see Godzilla.  Trying to be so loud and so angry that people are fired as a result doesn't change much, now does it?  It just keeps us all from moving on past it.  And don't think it means there's an automatic Stanley Cup in the immediate future, even though I do think the Penguins organization will have no choice but to bow to public pressure.  Again, I keep saying it, look at all the coaches the Capitals have had and how many championships?  Be really careful what you wish for, people.

But anyway, the moral to the story is:  thank you Pittsburgh for teaching me some perspective.  I have learned that there is no value in wringing my hands over something I don't control.  The team lost.  I'm disappointed.  But, you know what, I'm choosing to count my blessings and move on.  The rest of you should do the same.

I don't about the rest of you, but I'll be back next year to see more puck drops