This is how perspective is everything. I watched the game at a friend’s place, pretty much uninterrupted, whereas 10 has a family, and obligations, and chores and a washer and dryer.
4 :Habs start the first period on fire. I enjoy my first glass of Liberty School Cabernay Sauvignon. Everybody’s raving about the fire coach Carbo lit under the team’s ass. Play is fast. I’m on my second coupe. My friend BR and I accidentally take each other’s wine glasses. We laugh and enjoy being a part of high society. We have a piece of cheese. It smells of armpit, only enhancing our confidence in the taste to come. Dagostini scores what is becoming a signature goal. Hard at the net, quick hands, fierce desire. We collectively wonder if Chris Higgins can take notes with a sore shoulder. Seconds before this opening marker, hundreds of miles away, 10 leaves his couch for a few seconds….
10: Laundry load one: Switched sheets and towels and MiniHF10 pj's that were washed at 4:30 am but not dried(late night pukefest! Joys of parenting!) into dryer. Came back upstairs. 1-0.
4: The ladies are alone at the table now, abandoned by the men whom have taken to a higher cause. We spend the following minutes having the age old iphone or Blackberry Bold debate. The second goal is scored and we start to believe that the Canadiens are serious about this evening. Moments before this second tally, 10 leaves the tv for a few more seconds….
10: Laudry trip two: Sorting. Colours ... whites. Colours ... MiniHF10 (different detergent, dontcha know.) Let's see ... colours, colours, whites, colours, MiniHF10's, whites, colours ... put on load of colours. 2-0.
4: High fives going around like the clap in the 70’s. The Habs are for real. The power play is clicking, the cheese is doing the trick, because our mouths smell like squirrel farts. Habs strike again and we all embrace. Yet across the border, 10 is compelled to leave his seat, minutes before…
10: Laundry trip three: Switch colours over. Throw in second load of colours. Bring first load of MiniHF10 pukefest sheets upstairs for folding. 3-0.
4: No sooner do I suggest wanting to enroll my children in Liberty School that the Flyers make it 3-1.
10: Folding interlude. Fucking Aron Asham. 3-1.
Laundry trip four happened during intermission.
Dinner.
4: We’re all convinced the Habs will run away with it when Kovy scores on the bomb from Begin. We also wonder why he plays so well when wearing the “C”, maybe pretending the letters C-C-P followed.
10: Laundry trip five: Switched final load over to dryer. Decide against turning dryer on, since it is now 9:30, dryer is exceedingly noisy/squeeky and live in semi-detached house. (Neighbours have young kids. No concern over MiniHF10, who can sleep through atom bomb when not puking.) 4-1. Caught the replay. Nice pass.
4: I try to warp my brain around Benoit Brunet calling Gui! the best natural scorer on the team, and wonder if one can naturally score 8 goals a season.
10: Folding. Folding. Folding. 4-2. Folding. Folding. Return some items back to laundry room because lousy machine did not get puke smell out entirely. Folding. Folding. Gui! Game over.
