Last night. Game seven. I should have seen it coming.
First off, the Red Sox played an afternoon game and they won. We can only expect one of our teams to win on any given day. The Red Sox should have thrown the game so that cosmically there would have been room for the Bruins to win.
Second, my little clip on sunglasses thing broke. Last year, in preparation for our trip to Disney World, I searched far and wide (via Google) for clip on sunglasses that would fit on my prescription eye glasses. I found exactly one company who made them, and they only sold on ebay. I bought a set straight away, only to have the shipping delayed for ages upon ages. They didn’t get here in time for our Disney trip, but they were waiting at home for me when we returned.
Yesterday the forecast was for lots of sun so I put them on for the drive to work. Everything was fine. Then when I was about to go home for the day I went to put them on again and one of the lenses had broken off. Sonofa…. I went back to ebay, found the listing, and ordered another one. As of today the estimated delivery date is well in time for our next Disney trip. How much do you want to bet it gets delayed again.
Reason number three I should have known was the traffic was utter shite yesterday. Both the morning and evening commutes. That didn’t effect the actual game at all, but it was still crappy and pissed me off.
The fourth reason I should have known was that with 10 seconds left in the first period Brad Marchand decided to leave the ice for a line change, leaving his man uncovered and allowing St Louis to score a devastating, backbreaking goal. Wait, I shouldn’t have seen that coming because why would anyone want to change lines with TEN SECONDS LEFT IN A PERIOD IN GAME SEVEN OF THE STANLEY CUP EFFING FINAL!
Okay. I’m done. High School graduation tomorrow. High School graduation party on Saturday. Maybe sneak a little guitar playing in tonight. Maybe visit my Dad on Sunday for Father’s Day. Who knows. (I am never included in the Father’s Day planning, just as my wife is never included in the Mother’s Day planning. Obviously I am no one’s father, but everyone lets me play a little. They just prefix everything with Step.)
I want to say wait for next year, but I’m so crushed I am more likely to say the hell with next year. What a disaster.