Philadelphia Flyers...the Cup run is over
-And so begins the professional athletics desolation we call summer... Sure we have the Summer Olympics (nobody really cares), we’ve got the MLS (unless Freddy Adu starts tearing up the league...it will still be boring the general public), and we’ve got baseball (if pitchers were so great, why don’t they pitch every game?), but the excitement of the Stanley Cup playoffs, and the NBA playoffs to some extent, will be over. NFL football is a distant remedy all the way into August and the NHL is in danger of not dropping the puck again in October because of the CBA (Collective Barganing Agreement) problems. So when it comes to this summer and professional sports, the outlook does not look good.
Now this could’ve been a moot point had my Philadelphia Flyers won the Cup this year. Just the excitement of going to the championship parade on Broad St. would’ve lasted weeks, if not months. The aura of Philly finally winning a Cup again, and just a pro team winning the league title would’ve boosted pride ten-fold and re-ignited a city of champions that for the past 25 years have been only contenders, wanna-be’s, and underachievers. Yet the Flyers didn’t win the Cup this year, they didn’t even make it to the Cup Finals. They just lost Game 7 of the conference finals against the young and upstart Tampa Bay Lightning. The story did not end like it was supposed to. There will be no victory parade. There will be no payoff for guys who had worked so hard to get there. There would be no feel good story like the veterans of the Cup winning Avalanche of 2002. No my friends, the Flyers are heading for the golf course empty handed, just as they have for the past 29 years.
It’s especially a sad underachievement this year though. This year seemed different. I guess we fans say that every year, but it felt genuine this year. And as the playoffs progressed, that whole “team of destiny” cliché seemed to be manifesting itself. Guys like Keith Primeau were playing unworldly and the team seemed to feed on being disadvantaged (two of our best defensemen were out most of the playoffs) and receivers of unlucky bounces. But it appears fate likes to play cruel tricks on Philadelphia sports fans. Like the Eagles making the past three NFC conference championships with so much promise. Like the Sixers stealing Game 1 from the Lakers in the NBA Finals in 2001 fooling us into believing A.I. could single-handedly beat Shaq and Kobe. Like the Phillies thinking Mitch “The Wild Thing” Williams could pitch like Curt Schilling in the 1994 World Series. Philadelphia has become a ghost town full of past glories and storied champions of yesteryear.
I’d like to tell you that next year will be different, that the Flyers will regroup and build upon this mere “barrier” to win the Cup. But reality doesn’t bode so well for this weathered group. The NHL might not even exist next year, and the Flyer’s veterans aren’t getting any younger. As hard as it is to say, this may have been the best chance the Flyers had, and will get, in years; even better than the Cup Finals team of ’97 for there is no unstoppable Detroit or Colorado emerging from the West this time around.
So as a Flyers fan, what am I to do? Do I subscribe to the “glass half full” mantra and talk about how promising a future the stalwart Robert Esche has in net? Or how Ken Hitchcock has transformed this organization into a yearly contender? (though they have always been the past 10 years or so) Or maybe how youngins like Gagne, Bronco, and Pitkanen have their best days ahead of them? Or do I join the “glass half empty” caravan. The Flyers are too old now. The league won’t survive. What makes you think anything will be different next year? Philly is cursed!
I don’t know anymore. At this point there is no glass at all. At this point, all I have are unfulfilled aspirations and travel plans to Philly parades dashed. I feel like the Flyers mimic my own life really...so many hopes and dreams, and the means to acheive them, yet reality only manifests underachievements. Sigh....oh well. Guess there’s always next year...