Since the Minnesota Wild's season ended I've spent some time away from the game and from blogging in general. I've spent time watching some baseball, reading some books (check out David Mitchell's work if you can) and thinking plenty about hockey. Oh sure, I've watched some of the playoff games too, mind you, but not with the interest and tenacity of past years. Why did I do this, you ask? To develop a deeper understanding and appreciation of the Zen of Hockey.
What does it mean about life when someone like Marek Zidlicky sucks terribly with the Wild, whines and behaves like a 3 year old to get traded, and is now playing a key role on a Cup Semi-Finalist? Why does a team that no one supposedly care about defy the odds and look like a Cup favorite? And most importantly, why does Pierre McGuire look like he wants to make out with any player he interviews?
These questions represent only the tip of the proverbial iceberg I've been dealing with lately. Along the way in my journey I've spent time doing some sportsbook review, only to realize I couldn't predict my way out of an oversized pizza box. And yes, I'm not quite sure what that analogy means either, but just go with me for a bit.
I guess what I'm trying to say that the Minnesota Wild wore me down this past season, to the point where I couldn't even get interested in teams that were playing at high levels. To start of the season with so much promise, only to fall to earth like Skylab with a balding young astronaut at the helm. (Better analogy, thank you.) I needed to spend some time away from puck in order to move to a better place.
Well, I'm here to report that my spiritual walk has concluded and I'm ready to begin the begin. It starts tonight when I'll make some chorizo nachos, pour a cold glass of Surly's Furious and watch the game I once (and maybe again) loved.