“Synchronicitea”
Yesterday I
walked into my executive director’s office and asked if it was too early in the
season to kill myself.
“Why?” he asked.
“Have you become a Toronto fan?”
“I’m thinking
about it,” I replied. “Philly was shut out in Chicago last night.”
“They won on the
weekend, didn’t they?”
“Dallas beat
them 6 - 4.”
“Fire the coach,”
he said. “He’s already lasted twice as long as Laviolette last year.”
After some discussion,
during which he convinced me to stick around at least until I get the semi-annual
report done for him, I returned to my desk and borrowed from GRRM when filling
in my “what’s happening” field in the office IM:
CHI 4 – PHI 0. Life is miserable and full
of pain.
A couple of hours
later, a co-worker logged in and saw my frownie face emoticon. “Team not doing
well?” she asked, with sympathy.
“Nope,” I
answered glumly. “They haven’t won a game yet.”
“Maybe you should
change your hockey tea.”
A horrible
thought occurred that straightened me in my chair. “I haven’t been drinking my hockey
tea!”
She was equally
aghast. “Well, that’ll be why they’re sucking!”
“That’s it,” I
declared, “we’re going to David’s at lunch.”
I know, I know.
It’s a mad superstition, like wearing my jersey and setting Basher just so in
front of the TV, but for the past couple of years, I’ve drunk David’s buttered
rum black tea on Flyer game nights. Sometimes they win, sometimes they don’t,
but it’s a ritual that I defied on October 8 and can it really be a coincidence
that the team hadn’t won a game in 6 tries?
It was worth it
to test the theory. I went to David’s, bought 50 gms of buttered rum, ordered a
cup to go for insurance because I had no time to brew it before the puck
dropped, and crossed my fingers for the game in Pittsburgh last night.
Philadelphia
won, 4-2.
I rest my case.
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