Heart and Guts Required

By: Patrice L. Leonard

Armor is donned. Blades are sharpened. Helmets adorn shaggy heads of hair. Razors are thrown away. War? Well, sort of. It’s time for the Stanley Cup Playoffs. The most grueling and exciting tournament in the entire sporting world. It’s also the most gratifying and emotional event you will find anywhere.

I’ve already watched two games in this post-season and was not disappointed. The Red Wings-Oilers game went into double overtime. The Predators-Sharks was won in classic fashion by Nashville. The Eastern Conference frontrunner, Ottawa outshined the Lightning. What more can any hockey fan ask for? Hockey for 6 straight hours every night for the next month and a half sounds like heaven to me.

All this and the Flyers haven’t even suited up yet. That’s when it’ll get really crazy here in this city. Well, the die-hards will. The others will be focusing on the NFL draft or what further injustice Allen Iverson will bestow on us. That’s okay. You outsiders will soon be following this tremendous time in the NHL season. You won’t be able to help yourselves. How can you not be “Cup Crazy”?

Tomorrow night when our Flyers take the ice against the Sabres in Buffalo, I will be like many of you. I will be glued to my seat for three hours. Biting my nails, rocking back and forth. Sounds crazy doesn’t it? So is the life of a hockey addict. Even the bottom ranked teams step it up enough so that every single game is a true contest. Your normal five o’clock shadow turn into scraggly gnarly beards. There are bags under the players’ eyes. Hair never sees a comb. You’ll see blood on sweaters and stitches on faces. Ice bags on knuckles and knees. Any one player would have to be dead before they’d leave the ice, no matter what the injury.

Goalies become men of steel, masters of their domain. Peter Forsberg becomes a snarling dog with a killer instinct. Bodies will be flying, most often with one or more landing in the ice. It is said that hockey players speak two languages. One being English and the other profanity. This is never more apparent than in the playoffs. Tempers will flare, fists will connect with chins. A small piece of frozen rubber will wiz past heads at speeds of over 90 mph. Water bottles will be knocked off of nets. Sticks will be raised in victory. Who will live to see another day? Out there only the strong survive. These men are warriors in every sense of the word. This is what they live for. This is what they dreamed of since they were little boys. Nothing else can bring a grown man to tears as can raising that beautiful silver trophy.

Our quest begins Saturday night. We are lead by Peter the Great. His army is primed and ready to go. Robert Esche is keeper of the gate, fending off all enemies. Ladies and gentlemen hold onto your hats, this will be one wild ride. And girls, this may be the only place to witness grown men jumping into each other’s arms out of pure joy and elation. Don’t miss it.