Warning: Another LONG and crazy entry ahead!
Is Adoni a word? My spellchecker and my brain say it isn’t. I was trying to invent a plural form for Adonis, you know, the Greek guy. The point is the Anaheim Ducks have this delightful glow about them, and they reminded me of a group of Bronze Adoniseseseseses. I have been referring to them as such since my first game back at the Honda Center this season. But let’s not talk about the game. There are far more interesting things to discuss like the death of the Coyotes, and what is to become of me, my love, and the Arizona Prophecy.
I have to admit that I was beside myself over ditching the Coyotes if not for any other reason but the Arizona Prophecy. I had obviously invested a great deal in this gamble of faith. I dropped everything and went chasing a speedy white rabbit down various bunny holes across the league. If I was so sure about the prophecy enough to put my life on hold the way that I did last March, and nearly screwed myself over in most facets of my life in the process, then how could I just turn away now? It was kind of like that really bad movie that you just can’t walk out on because a small part of you is hoping that there will be a surprise twist at the end, and the film will somehow be worth that $9.95 you paid for the ticket. However, then the screen goes black and you’re left with nothing more than a hole in your pocket where your ten bucks and your dignity used to be.
When I decided to believe the school of psychics and my own intuition and go off on a quest in search of this mystery man, I had to leave the realm of the logical, the plausible, and the realistic behind. I’ve been living in a kind of fantasy world where meaning was drawn from every seemingly mundane dream or happening. While some things seemed clearer than others, I really started to go crazy (particularly this season) with having to sift between the “Divine” and the unimportant. I always tried to keep an open mind. If the prophecy was right, then it may manifest in some strange unforeseeable way. Perhaps the point of all this was not to find my “true love” after all. Perhaps it had to do with this website, the TV show, a job – who knows?
I know this can be both hard to read and believe, especially for those who do not have experience with this type of thing, but I always thought it was an interesting story, especially when you consider that as a hockey addict, my supposed “destiny” would be linked to the game I love. Of course, you skeptics may be right, and maybe this is leading me to nothing more than a very stressful adventure, but I guess we’ll see one way or another. Anyway, that’s why I opted to write about it in the first place because it IS connected to my hockey adventures, at least, right now.
There were various reasons for why I started to grow apart from Phoenix, and so, I decided to try and find a new team, and I came up with the Show Me A Sign campaign in hopes that fans across the league could show me where to go next. Within a couple days, there were whispers coming from Southern California that the Ducks fans wanted to get in on the campaign with a sign of their own. When I heard this everything clicked, and I remembered part of the prophecy that I had forgotten months ago. For over a year, psychic after psychic was telling me about the Arizona boy, but then, just a matter of days before the trade deadline, something change. Now there were two guys, and I had the choice between the two of them. On the one hand, there was the Arizona guy, but on the other hand was a guy linked to SoCal. I had never been to Arizona OR California, so this was strange to me. Anyway, when the switch to Phoenix finally happened, I decided to make a very last minute trip to Anaheim (I booked the flight like twelve hours before takeoff) just in case there was another guy there.
I had determined that the other team was Anaheim because the psychics had mentioned birds and I interpreted that as “ducks,” but, at this point, I’m more than willing to give the Kings a shot as well. Anyway, on that trip last season, strange things kept happening. My flight on Expedia wouldn’t book. Not even the travel agents could get it to work. The problem was being reported as my flight out of Buffalo, so we kept changing the departure (eight or nine times), hoping one of them would book, but to no avail. Finally, the travel agent gave up and told me that I could keep trying on my own, but she was doubtful that it would work. I decided to give it one last try, and of course it didn’t work, but this time something popped up on the screen. “Are your dates flexible? Fly back a day later.” I didn’t think this would matter considering that it was my departure that was the problem, but I decided to give it one last shot, and, of course, it booked. At the time I remember thinking that this was very meaningful. It was almost like I was meant to stay in Cali longer than I wanted to. Normally, on my hockey adventures, I want to get the fuck out of town as soon as the game is over, but in Cali I really enjoyed just hanging out. While my plane was hovering over LAX, this time around, I looked out the window, and I felt like I had finally returned home. Weird.
My flight wasn’t the only strange thing that wouldn’t book last season. I had problems with my hotel and game tickets too. The tickets in my usual sections would vanish before I could buy them. Once again, agents on Ticketmaster, StubHub, and TicketExchange could do nothing to help me. Finally, I was forced to settle for tickets in a crappy section. The weird thing was the SECOND I purchased the tickets, the ones I had previously scouted MAGICALLY reappeared. Again, was I meant to sit in those seats? As a result of me sitting there, the Coyotes ended up driving their first of many very large nails into their coffin of my hate. It was by far the worst game of my life, and I was forced to cope with it by making a horrible life choice after the game…four times…accidentally.
I was feeling the Ducks/Coyotes stress even last season. I was so confused; I didn’t know what to do with myself. While going through my mail one day, I came across a bumpy letter from some food company. When I opened it there were two Stanley Cup pins inside. I was kind of horrified. I couldn’t help but feel a little paranoid that some company I had never heard of knew the way to my heart. I casually brought this up to one of the psychics I know, and she revealed that she had the pins sent because there was a voucher for it in her box of popcorn, and it made her think of me. She told me she thought I would get some “sign” when the pins showed up, and immediately asked me if Phoenix was the one that I got. “Umm NO Phoenix has never made it passed the first round in the playoffs. They’ve never won a cup!” was my response. The teams I did get – Colorado and Anaheim.
Like I mentioned in Day 2, my trip to Avs country was planned in August. My original plan was to head to Phoenix after the game, but the fear of contracting the SWINE FLU was too great, so I decided to trash that idea like the trash that resides there. When I heard about the Ducks fans and their awesome game sign, I thought it would be in my best interest to return to Honda Center since I was already going to be in that “general” vicinity for the Coyotes game at Pepsi Center. The fact that the total additional cost for travel was only $5 sealed the deal. Of course, when I looked at the Ducks schedule, who should be playing in town but the Preds and the Coyotes! The Preds are another semi-ex boyfriend team, and I’m not going to lie, I did cast the odd glare down the ice from time to time. Luckily, I stayed safely nestled and well hidden next to the Ducks bench.
Of course, seeing that Phoenix was one of the teams in town during my visit to Cali, I figured that may be a sign that I wasn’t actually supposed to switch teams. However, the game in Colorado quickly soured any remaining feelings I had for the team. It would take a lot for the Coyotes to get me back, and the graveling would probably have to begin with a written apology addressed to my appropriate station as Ice Goddess. Anyway, I will have more to say about this; particularly, when I talk about the Ducks game in Detroit. I know, I know! I’m so behind on the road blogs right now. It feels like there aren’t enough hours in the day for all the crap I need to do. As it is I haven’t slept more than three hours in the last three days! And on that note *yawn,* I’m going to hit the sheets.
Roll the credits…
Tags: anaheim, anaheim ducks, hockey addicts, hockey fans, Nashville Predators, Phoenix Coyotes, psychics, road trips
Great blog this story has taken a wild twist to it and to me all signs are pointing to the Ducks. Look forward to the next blog
Hey, I thought Sheldon Souray of the Edmonton Oilers had complete ownership of the moniker, “Big Sexy?”