Sometime last year, I
finally caved in and let my significant other drag me to go see "Titanic."
I wasn't expecting much from what I though would be a bloated, sappy romance. This
was on top of sharing Greggo's opinion of "I know how the movie end: the boat
sinks!" But, in Rachelle's favor, I thought, "If she likes it, it can't be
all bad." As it would turn out, I actually enjoyed it . . . especially since
Leonardo DiCaprio died at the end (Someone cue the Darkness music).
One moment that stuck with me, though, was when
the ship's captain, in sea-faring tradition that would make Rhynes proud, locked himself
on the bridge to go down with the ship. There is a dedication to something that says
you follow it to the bitter end.
Which brings me to the topic of the Stars.
From my Game 1
vantage point in the upper level, I watched the team begin to take on water. For
the first time in the playoffs, they faced a team with more than one dangerous line.
They faced a team with all the worst aspects of the first two they'd faced: both
fight and speed. Game 2 showed they could play and win against the defending Stanley
Cup champions. Games 3 and 4 were embarrassments, despite fine comebacks. It
was too little too late. By this time the lower decks were already below water.
Game 5 Wednesday will be the Stars chance to raise their personal Titanic
but it may be too late. The team is being dragged down under the weight of injuries
and senseless penalties. And with this fact in mind, Dallas fans have fallen silent
choosing to cluck their tongues, shake their heads in disappointment and spew and endless
litany of "woulda, coulda, shoulda."
And to this I say, "BULLSHIT! Stars in
seven."
Call me just a bit of an optimist or just a believer in a power that
causes stranger things in this universe than washed-up fitness maven, Susan Powter.
And for all you naysayers still on the bandwagon: Step to the door, this is your
stop.
The Stars bandwagon
has burst into flames . . . and I've chained myself to the wheel. Who's still with
me?