So said number 93 after the Flyers were mathematically eliminated from
the post season while the regular season was still underway. At that point,
even if they'd won every remaining game, there was absolutely no way in which
they could claw themselves into a playoff appearance this year. So, for the last
eight or nine games, they were “playing for pride.”
At first I growled at them for being lame. “ ‘Playing for pride’, grrr.” Come on, guys, where was pride when the games counted? Sure, we were injured. Our blue line was more of a blue thread because of those injuries. Our starter goalie was out with various and sundry issues over the winter. We also have two of the best players and a host of snipers on the top two lines, yet a good chunk of our scoring came from the grinders. They were the guys playing for pride. Playing for ice time. Playing to get noticed, sure, for bigger contracts, but really, boys, play for the love of the game and you’ll win even when you lose.
Then I caught three of their final five games. Home and home against Pittsburgh (they won both penalty-ridden games), and one hosting the dreaded devil spawn Islanders. They won that one, too, with two seconds to spare after the Isles tied the score at 19:30 of the third period. I was getting ready to bawl when Schenn the Younger took a random shot and, miraculously, the puck trickled past Jaro Halak and into the net. I admit, I expected little to no effort; after all, the team was done, out, their season kaput. I also admit that they surprised me. Surprised and delighted, in fact. They played like their lives depended on it, taking their rivalries and their roles as spoilers seriously. They made me proud, so I guess they really did play for pride.
Thus endeth the Flyers’ season. All told, it was a good year for them, better than the numbers tell. By the end of the year, they played as a team, trusting each other, fighting for each other, and having a pretty good time doing it. I’m so glad I saw those last few games. They gave me hope for 2015/16.
In the meantime, the Canucks have made it to the playoffs, so guess who is cheering for pride?
At first I growled at them for being lame. “ ‘Playing for pride’, grrr.” Come on, guys, where was pride when the games counted? Sure, we were injured. Our blue line was more of a blue thread because of those injuries. Our starter goalie was out with various and sundry issues over the winter. We also have two of the best players and a host of snipers on the top two lines, yet a good chunk of our scoring came from the grinders. They were the guys playing for pride. Playing for ice time. Playing to get noticed, sure, for bigger contracts, but really, boys, play for the love of the game and you’ll win even when you lose.
Then I caught three of their final five games. Home and home against Pittsburgh (they won both penalty-ridden games), and one hosting the dreaded devil spawn Islanders. They won that one, too, with two seconds to spare after the Isles tied the score at 19:30 of the third period. I was getting ready to bawl when Schenn the Younger took a random shot and, miraculously, the puck trickled past Jaro Halak and into the net. I admit, I expected little to no effort; after all, the team was done, out, their season kaput. I also admit that they surprised me. Surprised and delighted, in fact. They played like their lives depended on it, taking their rivalries and their roles as spoilers seriously. They made me proud, so I guess they really did play for pride.
Thus endeth the Flyers’ season. All told, it was a good year for them, better than the numbers tell. By the end of the year, they played as a team, trusting each other, fighting for each other, and having a pretty good time doing it. I’m so glad I saw those last few games. They gave me hope for 2015/16.
In the meantime, the Canucks have made it to the playoffs, so guess who is cheering for pride?
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