It has been exactly two weeks since I broke up with the Phoenix Coyotes, and if you haven’t noticed, via my tweets, I’ve moved well past the post break up remorse stage to the full fledged anger stage. Whatever love was there has been pushed aside for hate. Yes, boys, I’ve lost that loving feeling. What’s worse is that, much like Kyle Wellwood, I’ve replaced hockey with food. I’ve been treating every day like it were Thanksgiving since the break up – I find happiness in carbs and Halloween candy. Luckily, it would appear as though hating is a calorie burner because I haven’t noticed MUCH damage.
Of course, not having a hockey team to call my own has put quite a strain on, not only my blog/nutrition, but my relationship with the game as a whole. I think my fellow female hockey fans can relate when I say that when we scorch our wings by flying too close to one aspect of the game, we develop a similar aversion to the other components of the sport temporarily. I guess it all comes down to that, “Hell hath no wrath” business. I have to admit that I haven’t felt an aversion quite like this in over six years. Back then, I had gone through a major high school aged drama, which naturally seemed far more devastating through the eyes of an inexperienced and naïve teenager. Nevertheless, a complete and total loathing for hockey (at all levels) developed. I couldn’t even stomach watching my (then) beloved Maple Leafs until the fateful day I decided to embark upon writing Down the Rabbit Hole: A Guide to Puck Bunnies.
In the last two weeks I have watched maybe two hockey games, and even then I wasn’t really paying attention. You can see the impact this would have on my hockey blog. When I had my bat shit crazy outburst towards the Coyotes after I returned from their game in Buffalo, I wasn’t entirely sure that I would abandon the team. I decided to take some time to reflect on everything that happened particularly in the realm of the Arizona prophecies. I opted to keep my eyes on the Coyotes and their dealings, until, a couple games in, a completely unnecessary first intermission interview prompted me to turn off the TV and never turn it back on. I realized then that I wasn’t safe from the constant reminder of the hideous beast lurking in the desert, and that my happiness was now dependent on me avoiding the team at all costs. Unfortunately, I still have a few games to get through before we officially go our separate ways. But on a more positive note, I booked a trip to take a test drive of a new team, which I will reveal on November 5th when my plane lands in said NHL city.
I think the main reason that my hatred towards the Coyotes burns hotter than anything I’ve ever felt before is mainly due to the nature of our relationship in the first place. As most of you know, I became a Coyotes fan because a series of psychics had told me that it was essentially my destiny, and that the love of my life was connected to the place. When all the prophecies had fallen into place, I dropped everything and ran toward the desert at top speed because I rationalized that if the man of my dreams was really there, then the risk would be worth it whatever the cost. Since then I have been searching the globe for this guy, but have had no luck in neither finding him nor acquiring him. I didn’t want to give up on the quest, but after that moronic interview I really felt like I had no choice but to distance myself from the team. I can’t even begin to describe the bitterness that I feel about this whole situation. I put my life on pause for this mystery guy; I jeopardized my education, my future, my financial stability, and for what? Nothing! While I haven’t entirely given up on finding this guy, I have amended my course of action, which I will discuss in greater detail on November 5th. The weird thing is that it doesn’t feel like my choice, and it doesn’t feel like I’ve given up. It feels like I had found the guy, but instead of happily ever after, he chose to reject me. I guess I should have banked on that happening.
Anyway, tomorrow night I begin my trek down to New York City for one of my last few remaining Coyotes games. I am still hopeful that something miraculous will happen and that this man will somehow reveal himself to me, but the reality is that the clock is ticking on my time spent shadowing Phoenix. The realist in me is more than confident that I will be cheering on the Rangers come Monday night, and continuing on my brand new quest to find, not the man, but the hockey team of my dreams, and rekindle my passion for the game that I once loved more than anything in this world.
See you in Manhattan.
Tags: hockey addicts, Phoenix Coyotes, psychics
you should really convert back to Leafs Nation tickets are pricey sure but c’mon this is an original 6 team we’re talking about here. A lot of history behind this team. C’mon Kat, you know you want too lol.
Or you could make the switch to a team that occasionally wins a game and give Ottawa a try
Come for the Sens and we’ll throw in a side of 67′s and Olympiques if you’re still hungry for more.
No amount of psychics should ever be able to convince you that anything coming out of the desert is capable of giving love. The desert is a harsh taskmaster, forcing you only to think of survival, think of yourself.
Hi,
Don’t give up on your team. They finally got a real coach and are playing hardnosed hockey. I know it’s rough but try to stay in the present.
Nice site. Hope to see ya at the game.
Derek