"Whatchyouwant?" she asked Richard suspiciously.
"Nothing." said Richard. "I really don't want anything. Nothing at all." And then he realized how true that was; and how dreadful a thing it had become. "Have you ever got everything you ever wanted? And then realized it wasn't what you wanted at all?"

Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere.

It was right around two in the morning and I was with my hockey cronies drinking beer in the Starscenter parking lot. Another Saturday night and another game in which we had managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. We stood there discussing what we could've done differently and vowing that next time would be different. Another Saturday night like so many others before.

At least until the bus pulled up.

The bus was different. At least to us it was. We stood there in rapt attention as, one by one, familiar faces filed off it: Bob Gainey, Derian Hatcher, Mike Modano and others. The Stanley Cup Champions were returning from a road trip. Earlier that night they had lost a game they probably should've won.

But isn't that how it always is.

As we watched them head to their cars, you could almost hear our thoughts: I wish I could get paid to play. That would be the

shit. I wonder if our envy was obvious in our eyes. We offered Joe Nieuwendyk a beer as he went by. He smiled a weary smile, shook his head and continued on. A couple of cars away from where we stood, winger Mike Keane got into his car to leave. As he backed out of the parking spot, we extended the same offer to him as we did to Joe. He stopped his car and looked at us with distant eyes. It was the kind of look given by overweight, middle-aged men who look at old flames at a high school reunion and wonder why the years always seemed so much kinder to others. He smiled and said to us, "This was when hockey was fun." Then, he drove away.

I wonder if he knew how obvious the envy was in his eyes.

joe@shutupanddance.com

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