OT: Ginny and I are depressed
There was no joy in Jersey last night: the Devils lost 3-2 and were eliminated from the Stanley Cup playoffs. Their last game in their own Meadowlands "barn" (the players' term for a hockey rink) was pretty dismal. Ginny and I won't be driving to the swamps anymore because next fall the Devils move to the brand-new Prudential Center in Newark.
The Star-Ledger printed an eloquent photo of Zach Parise slumped on the locker room bench without his jersey but with his skates still laced on. Discarded equipment litters the floor and seat around him. The air of defeat is almost palpable.
Myself, I went home and cleaned all this year's ticket stubs out of the pockets of my (not-so-lucky) Devils jacket, then solemnly hung it at the back of the coat closet until October rolls around.
The great thing about sports is this: there's always next season. My husband and I spent a delightful fifteen minutes this morning discussing which free agents we think the Devils should sign for the fall. I'm already looking forward to the new line-up.
Where there's a team, there's always hope.