One of my favourite things to do as a Calgary Flames fan is talk with other Flames fans. About the team, what we’re excited about, or get into a spirited debate about how good or bad Cory Sarich is. It becomes something shared, that you can indulge in. You get hopeful, excited, and convince yourselves of outlandish scenarios, dreaming of winning it all. I had a buddy at work a couple years ago after the Flames acquired Todd Bertuzzi– we’d hated him before, and after a week, we’d almost talked ourselves into it. That’s being a fan. You support the logo.
Coming into the season, one of my favourite opening lines when talking Flames was, “Who’s excited about our inevitable 11th place finish?”. I was trying to be clever, but it was, in my head, where I thought they’d be at the end of the year. With four games to go, I don’t say this to elevate my predictive powers- I’ve a track record of being exceptionally wrong. As a fan of the Flames, I’d have been delighted to be wrong in this case. But this was one instance where my heart (who supports the logo) and my head (who pores over the roster and ponders it’s usage) disagreed.
The conflict of what I think and what I want to happen is a perpetual struggle for me as a fan, and one that the Flames managed to put me in constantly this year. It’s fun to get caught up in the rush of a playoff chase, a division title, a streak that takes us within shouting distance of the Stanley Cup. That’s why we’re fans- well, it’s why I’m a fan. Though I cast myself as an analytical sort, I’m as prone to throwing the remote control at the television as anyone (I may have broken a remote during a particularly frustrating series against Anaheim a few years ago, but that’s neither here nor there).
I see the door closing on the Flames’ season, and their chances at a playoff spot, and it makes me sad. Even as I believed, somewhere deep in me, that they didn’t have it in them, that the 11th place finish was likely. It was easy to get caught up in the excitement: getting a few wins in a row, breathing down the necks of whoever was in 8th place, giving us the proverbial “chip and a chance” (a poker term- I’m mixing sports metaphors here, which is always dangerous) to MAKE that aforementioned Stanley Cup run. But the lifeless losses of the past several days have shunted me back down to reality.
I bought tickets to the season finale against the Vancouver Canucks, hoping that the game would mean something, that it might portend playoff position for our boys. That’s looking less likely, but I’m going anyway. I’ve long argued that hockey is a tremendous sport live, better than most other live sports, especially now that Calgary has a crowd that shows some enthusiasm, something that wasn’t the case before the Magical Playoff Run of ’04. I keep wondering if it’ll be the end of an era, if this’ll be the year that the Flames tear it down. The team’s core has stagnated, gotten older, and the front office has continued to build along the most accomplished player in franchise history, hoping to strike gold one year with just the right mix of players and coach.
They didn’t find it this year (probably). But it’s the hope that they will that keeps us coming back, the possibility that this will be the year. When the lights go down next Thursday against the hated Canucks, I’ll hear the music, watch the intros, the players skating onto the ice, and cheer like a good fan would. Because I’m a fan, and that’s what we do.
Go Flames Go.