Quest for the Cup

It’s hard not to become a hockey fan once your city’s team enters the playoffs: people adorn their cars with flags, proudly flying their team’s logo as they drive around town; the bars are filled with cheering fans every other night; and there’s a certain camaraderie and sense of optimism between friends and strangers alike, all of whom are certain that this year will be the year their team wins the Stanley Cup.

This year, the Ottawa Senators, or the “pesky Sens”, are desperately fighting to bring the Cup back to their city for the first time in 87 years — coincidentally the same number as Sidney Crosby, the guy they have to shut down in order to move on to the next round. They upset the Montreal Canadiens in the first round thanks to the outstanding play of their goalie Craig Anderson. Now, in the second round, they face an extremely difficult challenge in the Pittsburgh Penguins — arguably one of the favourites to win the Cup after adding some talented players to their already scary lineup.

            Down 2-1 in a best-of-seven series, the Senators are coming off a rollercoaster, double-overtime win which saw none other than Daniel Alfredsson score a short-handed goal to tie up the score with 29 seconds left in the third period. How fitting is that?

After a grueling back-and-forth first overtime period, which produced many scoring chances for both teams, the players went back into their respective dressing rooms to prepare for another period — and leaving this fan dangerously close to having a heart-attack. After a well-deserved break, the players returned to the ice with the hopes of ending the game as soon-as-possible. Sure enough, thanks to a juicy rebound from an Andre Benoit shot, Colin Greening was able to slide the puck past Tomas Vokoun 27 minutes and 39 seconds into the second overtime period — a goal which turned Scotiabank Place into a frenzy of screaming, towel-waving fans.

With the win, the Senators give themselves a better chance at doing something that has never been done in franchise history: coming back after trailing two games to none in a series — a feat which would have seemed almost impossible had they lost game three.

For the Senators to win the series, they will need: Alfredsson to…well…be Alfredsson; Anderson to continue playing like he has all-year-round; Karlsson and Spezza to provide the offensive flare that they are capable of; and the supporting cast to continue to abide by Paul MacLean’s — and his mustache’s — style of play. Not too much to ask, right?

While obviously rooting for the Senators in this David-versus-Goliath matchup, I have been amazed at the skill level of some of the Pittsburgh players, most notably: Sidney Crosby. I mean, I knew he was good, but when you watch someone play on a more consistent basis, you tend to notice them more…and Crosby makes it hard for anyone to not notice him when he’s on the ice.

With that said, I truly hope that Ottawa finds a way to win, not only this series, but the Stanley Cup as well, if not for the city, then for the man who has been the face of the franchise since being named captain in 1999; the man who wears number 11 on his back but plays for the logo on his chest, the man who carries the weight of the city on his shoulders every time he puts on his jersey; the man who has contributed not only on the ice, but who has immensely impacted the community which he now calls home; the man who the city has adopted as their hero: Daniel Alfredsson.

Although unconfirmed by Alfredsson, this could be his last season wearing the only NHL jersey he has ever known, and seeing him lift the Stanley Cup would be the fairy-tale ending to a hall-of-fame career. Winning the Cup is no easy task, but if the Senators can continue to "out-pesky" their opponents, they should see their playoff success continue all the way to the Cup final...hopefully.

Welcome to Canada; we take our hockey extremely seriously.

Go Sens Go.

Vocabulary Woes

Possessing an expanded vocabulary is instrumental for anyone who intends to write. So many words, so many synonyms, and picking the right one is paramount to expressing a variety of things: meaning, tone, etc.

I read somewhere that: "The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a firefly."

I view every sentence, and consequently every word, like a construction worker views the steps of the construction process: each is the prelude to a finished product. Constructing sentences — much like building a house, to continue with the analogy — requires the right tools and materials. As a writer, words are my tools, my instruments for building abstract pieces of work which have the potential to be as beautiful as the Pyramids of Giza, or the Sistine Chapel.

Like any skill known to man, writing requires years of practice to master. Mixing passion with motivation and dedication, while combining it with inspiration and creativity can lead to some extraordinary results. Throw in some patience, and success is almost inevitable. The question is: how long am I willing to wait? Unfortunately, I'm in the passenger seat with time at the wheel, steering, driving towards the unknown. Hindsight is a walk in the park next to the uncertainty of the future.  

Alcoholic Thoughts

When pain becomes realer than joy, it’s time to walk away. Sometimes it’s easier said than done for us masochistic individuals. One ounce of loneliness and one ounce of fear, mixed in a glass three-quarters-full of low self-esteem, and you’ve got yourself one hell of a cocktail. I used to be drunk with your presence; now I’m drunk with your absence.

Cheers.

The Path That Lies Ahead

I'm somewhat surprised by my decision to pursue writing as a career. I was tempted to say "become a writer", but I don't feel as though that's appropriate since, in my opinion, one does not become a writer on a whim, one is molded into a writer through years of experiences. It's amazing where life takes you when you let it.

Pure, honest writing allows the reader to catch a glimpse of the author in his most vulnerable, naked state. A gateway into a writer's mind and soul is directly through his written work — or at least that's my romantic view.

Which brings me back to my initial surprise. As someone who's used to keeping people at a safe distance — mostly at an emotional level, which I suppose inevitably creates a physical distance too — I am somewhat baffled at this path I've chosen to follow.

Although my fear of revealing myself intimately may seem counter-intuitive for a writer, I feel as though I possess a number of other qualities which may help me, or have led me to pursue writing. Now I'm not going to "toot my own horn", as they say, by listing these "qualities" since boasting has never been a talent of mine. But I feel as though it's important to be aware of one's flaws and talents. That way, choosing a path becomes less daunting.

So I've decided to give 'er the old college try. You know what they say: "the best way to overcome your fear is to face it head on." — or something like that. At the very least, succeed or fail, I know I'll be doing something that I love...while apparently using every cliché in the books while I'm at it.

Beauty

Beauty. What is beauty? Something that is appealing to the eye? Something that evokes a strong emotional reaction in the form of attraction? It's a word often used without much forethought, like love and hate. I don't believe that we'll ever be able to agree on what the true definition of beauty is — or what makes one more beautiful than another — because beauty is a subjective word, leaving it to be interpreted differently.

But if there's one thing I understand about beauty it's that it's not attributed to something which is flawless — because such a thing does not exist — but is attributed to something which shines through its flaws.

Connected

In a world where we are so connected, how is it that we can feel so lonely? isolated? misunderstood? useless? The fact is, the more we hide behind a screen, the lonelier we become, desperately craving some sort of acknowledgement from someone, anyone. One "like", one "retweet" is all we need to feel validated, appreciated…only momentarily, then we need more, like a drug.

We've exposed ourselves to be viewed — or at least our online personas — by an unparalleled amount of strangers. Privacy is no longer an issue, but intimacy is dwindling. 

Enter a room full of people. The room is silent; or perhaps the sound of a television fills it, while muted individuals stare blankly at their screens, almost oblivious to their surroundings. Conversation is a lost art, replaced by text messages filled with abbreviated words and emoticons, but are emotionless. They offer only what is needed: surface banter, without delving too deeply into personality or opinion — keeping a distance, both physically and emotionally — while ensuring accessibility is controlled. Constantly connected, but forever alone.