Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax

(This is really about baseball*)

Victor and I met the hockey blogger CapsChick at a game towards the end of the season. She's quite a good writer and knows her hockey. I did realize, though, when I found we didn't share the same bitter hatred of the Islanders, that she's much younger than I am.

Even though it was before her time, she has a great pair of posts this week about the good/bad old days: A Little Perspective, A Little History, where she interviews her dad.

My eyes got misty when he talked about Ryan Walter.

I've mentioned before than my thirty-some years of memory are suspect...but as I remember the last game of the '82 season, we had just missed the playoffs...I think it was even a situation where if another team had lost, we would have squeaked in. They were doing the usual fan appreciation thing, and when Ryan gave his "We'll get them next year" speech, his voice broke. And then I started to cry like a baby.

I was crushed by the trade. Ryan Walter was my brother's favorite player (my brother being all of six at the time) and I remember my father breaking the news to the whole family as if someone had died. I remember my mom saying "But he's the heart and soul of the team."

Of course, the Ryan Walter trade, better known as the Rod Langway trade, was the turning point for the Capitals. For years after, I didn't have to cry 'til our last playoff game, not our last regular-season game.

Another hockey story occurs to me. This makes more sense if you've seen me in person...I have really long hair. This will be relevant in a minute.

After we were beat up by the Islanders for many playoffs, Pittsburgh took over. In 1994, though, we beat the Penguins. I was sitting behind the bench that last game, and cheering with much more emotion than I usually show. I felt a tugging from behind me, but didn't really pay attention...we had beaten the cursed Penguins. The tugging got harder, and I finally turned around.

The woman behind me had been cheering, too. Cheering so hard that her gum had fallen out of her open mouth and into my hair...and in her attempts to retrieve it, it had gotten hopelessly stuck.

My then-husband took out his penknife and snipped off a good three-inch hunk of hair. The poor woman was mortified.

It really was ok, I assured her. "We just beat the Penguins," I said. "I'd be happy right now if you shaved me bald."

Yeah, winning, it does beat losing.

But if you haven't felt the low, does the high feel as good?

I really liked how CapsChick ended her interview with her dad:

It’s a great feat to stick by one team like the Capitals for 33 years of ups and downs (more downs than ups) – through trades, management changes, coaching changes, ownership changes, new jerseys, and countless, countless Penguins games. Yet it’s something I aspire to, to hold the love of one team long enough until it finally pays off, and then beyond.

My dad has been a season ticket holder since that first season and while his seats have gotten better and his hair has gotten thinner, the one thing that remains the same through all these years is the passion he feels for this team. Hearing him describe those dark days with as much love as one would use to speak of a great dynasty shows that being a fan means not noticing the numbers, the records, the punchlines – only the emblem on the jersey. It's a lesson I think we all could learn.

*I'm supposed to be coming up with a post for Ted about why the Nationals' future is not really none more black.

Posted by Nic at April 12, 2007 08:19 PM | TrackBack