It pains me.

Sometimes it's like losing your best friend.  To me there are few things worse than when the home team plays bad.  Especially when your team is supposed to be one of the finest in the league.  For many years the Cowboys kept me in a Travis-like state of angst.  And now it's the Stars.  But as sometimes happens in this big world of ours, just when you think it can't get any worse, it does.   There is one thing worse than bad hockey.

No hockey at all.

I discovered this after the end of the Stanley Cup finals last season.   I would find myself wandering aimlessly about the house.  I would channel surf hoping to hear the blessed slap of stick on puck.  And found none.  Happily I found my methadone of sorts to ease my addition:  NHL 98 for the PC.  With that I would relive all the excitement of the game.  For hours, I would perch myself at my desk and watch digital Modanos take shot after shot on goal while virtual Belfours stacked pixilated pads to keep the puck at bay.

It wasn't the real thing, but it was close enough to get me through the summer. Now, with the season well underway, I have gone back to living a mostly normal life.  Yes, I use the Stars schedule to coordinate my wardrobe and good luck trying to bad-mouth local netminders around me, but that's as normal as I get.   Sure, I can still discuss more mundane subjects, weather and presidential scandals.   I can even tell you on occasion who's the latest angst-filled Gen-X sensation.

But, there are times when I just need the fix. 

I got into a discussion with a friend one day.  She was telling me how she couldn't watch the Stars because they were playing so badly.  I thought for a moment, "How could you not watch?"  Then this thought came to me:

There is no hockey in hell.

"Get out the A-1 sauce, I'm done."