Photo: Daniel Gajdamowicz
To start with a confession, I teared up a bit watching the Disney “classic” Miracle the other day.
Now, that is partially due to circumstances of a non-sporting nature (of which I’ll spare you) from which I well up at mildly sentimental commercials let alone inspirational tales of unlikely triumph. Another share is, in no small part, from merely missing hockey. Some small measure may, possibly, be related to compromised sobriety. By far though, the largest portion is the nature of sports, and teams, and the huge part of our hearts that we entrust to them.
All my sports eggs have been in the Union basket for three years now. Forget just sports… Like 90 percent of ALL my eggs have been in the Union basket for at least half of that time. Let’s just say, I really, really, need a solid 2013 to turn a lot of things around.
And from here, in the safe and sheltered bosom of the pre-season, it just may all work out fine.
It’s the pre-season. The time when all the potential victories are ours. The time of all the hopey-changey goodness that possibility can promise without challenge by outside forces. Forces like, you know, reality.
Le Toux is home. Casey is (perhaps) in the fold. Adu has (perhaps) exited stage left. The moves have been right. The tone has been right. It all looks so bright and clean in this crisp New Year’s air.
But, only anticipation can be perfect. Reality is never so absolute. Only time, and actual matches, can prove the worth of what has been done on paper.
Though it may be delusion, mirage, or just a need for it to be so, I’ve regained some of that old feeling.
I’ll open myself up. I’ll put my faith, and hopes, and heart on the line. I’ll be ready on March the 2nd.