Ding Dong the Play is Dead (And the Sabres are Alive Again)

Okay, Sabres, you're done losing now. Things were rough there for a bit, I know, but now everything should be all right again, see, because the cause of that terrible slump you were going through won't be a problem anymore. I'll explain.

The Sabres' recent losing streak was so bad that everyone seemed to have their own theories about what was going wrong. After a while it became apparent that they weren't just playing bad hockey or turning in half an effort, rather they seemed legitimately cursed. But by what? Top Shelf's Heather B. considered the fact that she'd had her Derek Roy wallpaper up for too long, but ultimately decided that this one was all on the Hockey Gods, while The Willful Caboose's Katebits started to get curious about Ryan Miller's conduct around the Cup that his baby brother brought home over the summer. But I don't think it was any of those things. I believe the Sabres were cursed, just like everything else in my life, by this godforsaken play I was in.

At first I thought my boys were just being considerate. They knew it would only deepen my homicidal rage coming home from rehearsal to find that I'd missed a really good hockey game as well, so they decided they'd better play like crap and take care of that problem for me. And it worked! I was almost happy to see those early losses, because it meant I wasn't missing out on anything by being trapped in rehearsal. But then things started to change. The Sabres started wanting to win, desperately trying to win, but it just wouldn't happen for them. I stopped being relieved and grateful and started getting frustrated and angry (about five games behind the rest of Sabres fandom) when I came home to loss after loss. And that's when I knew. That's when I knew the losses weren't on purpose, and they weren't coincidence; they were all a part of Lysistrata's never-ceasing campaign to suck all of the fun out of my life.

The more I thought about it, the more it made sense: I mean, it had already ruined my moods, my grades, and my social life, why not go after my hockey team as well? But if you're still not swayed, here are some convincing statbits (this is about as statbitty as DH will ever get, so don't get used to it): On nights I didn't have rehearsal or a performance, the Sabres went 5-2-0, with the two losses being the first games against the Islanders--which, let's be honest, they weren't going to win anyway. They just had too many dues to pay for last year. On nights I was stuck on stage, they went 1-8-1 (not including Friday's win against Montreal, which I'll get to in a second). Defense was pretty much a push, as opponents scored 21 and 28 goals in the 7 non-rehearsal and 10 rehearsal nights, respectively, but the effect on the offense was alarming. While I was suffering, the scorers were struggling, managing just 13 goals. They scored more than twice in a game just once, the 4-3 overtime loss to the Lightning, and were shut out three times. Otherwise they piled on 32 goals in three fewer games, including only one instance where they netted fewer than four. That's some pretty persuasive evidence of evil, if you ask me.

But it's all over now, and the Sabres are already getting back on track. I thought their 4-1 win on Friday, before the official end of the curse last night, showed great force of will, especially considering it was one of the most heinously awful nights of the play ever. It seems that already their heads are in the right place and they know what it's going to take to turn their season around. It won't be easy, but I have faith. If they could overcome a curse as powerful as this one on a night like that, they can overcome anything.

Just to be clear, I'm not saying that I personally am some sort of good luck charm. There were a couple of nights in there where I was rehearsal-free, but still missed the game for one reason or another, so I can't take any of the credit. I'm just trying to tell you where you should direct your blame. I'd like to sincerely apologize to everyone--players and fans alike--for ever accepting a role in this show. If I'd known ahead of time how much pain it would cause, I never would have done it. I'll do my best to make sure it won't happen again.

But beware Sabres. Your excuse is gone. Any losses from here on out? They're all on you.

It's good to be back!

A Letter of Apology

Dear Jaroslav Spacek,

I think I may owe you an apology. All last season, I was way too hard on you, and I'm sorry. I mean sure, you didn't come close to earning that $3 million: you were the only Sabre without a single point in the playoffs, before this season the last goal you scored was in 2006, and your defensive play often left me just praying that you would injure yourself. But apparently taking point shots on the power play is your bread and butter, and it was really unfair of me to expect you to produce while you were being deprived of your bread and butter. This season has already been an entirely different story, as you've logged lots of time on the power play, turning it into 4 goals and 6 points in 4 games. Keep that up and I might have to pull an Earl Sleek and vow to name my daughter Jaroslav to make up for all my shameless taunting! (Okay, that was a joke, Jaro. I know I'm apologizing, here, but I'm not that cruel.) For now, I would like to present you with these cinnamon buns, the universal symbol of excessive but heartfelt apology:


Keep up the good work!

Love,
Gambler

PS Keep doing those interviews, too, and when you do, please use the phrase "it's my bread and butter" as much as possible. It's hi-larious!