I had an argument over the Red Wings’ Game 7. I had it with
myself.
Mitch Albom, Detroit Free Press
I had an argument over the Red Wings’ Game 7. I had it with myself.
The Left Side of my brain said: “THIS IS HUGE! THIS IS HISTORY! THIS IS ONE OF THOSE MOMENTS YOU TELL YOUR GRANDKIDS ABOUT!”
The Right Side of my brain said: “Relax, Lefty. It’s only the second round.”
The Left Side replied: “Are you brain-dead? This is not just ‘GAME 7,’ two words that send a chill of anticipation through hockey fans anywhere — this is Game 7 in a series that could have been over in Game 4!
“This is Game 7 that gives the Wings a chance to be the FOURTH TEAM IN NHL HISTORY TO COME BACK FROM A 3-0 DEFICIT! HOW MUCH MORE IMPORTANT CAN IT GET?”
The Right Side said: “Nothing is important if it doesn’t end in a championship.”
Left Side said: “You’re nuts.”
Right Side said: “If I am, you are.”
Left Side: “It’s black and white.”
Right Side: “You’re gray.”
Climbing out of a big hole
The argument went on for hours, from the moment the Wings scored that empty-netter against the Sharks with just more than a minute left in Game 6 on Tuesday night. (Left Side went berserk; Right Side said “very nice” and went back to Big Picture stuff.)
Left. Right. Back. Forth. Major. Minor. Huge. Not so huge.
I’m not sure which side had a stronger argument, but I was getting dizzy.
“How can you not be impressed?” the Left Side insisted. “Anything that has only happened three times in hockey has to be MAJOR.”
“Use more lobes,” said the Right Side. “Look at history. The 1975 Islanders came back from a 3-0 deficit. Wowee. They lost in the next round.
“The Flyers came back from a 3-0 deficit and still blew it in the Stanley Cup finals. And that was last year! How unique can something be if it happened last year?”
“Are you going soft?” the Left Side said. “Have you forgotten 1942, when Toronto came back from 3-0 IN THE FINALS and WON THE STANLEY CUP?”
“Yeah,” the Right Side answered. “And who’d they do it against.”
“Who cares?” the Left Side said.
“Detroit,” the Right Side said.
Left: “Aw, go watch Fox News!”
Right: “Better than CNN!”
And the winner is . . .
This wrangling continued through the night. My medulla oblongata was exhausteda.
At some point, each side began to back off on its position.
“I guess,” the Left Side admitted, “even if the Wings win tonight, they’d still have two more rounds.”
“Then again,” said the Right Side, “it could springboard them to a title. It happened with the Red Sox once they came back on the Yankees.”
“But that’s baseball,” the Left Side said.
“Sports is sports,” the Right Side said.
“You’re so logical,” said the Left.
“You’re so passionate,” said the Right.
Left: “Who’s gonna win tonight?”
Right: “Well, if we stay out of the penalty box, momentum is on our side.”
Left: “Then again, it’s hard to beat the same team four times in a row. And tonight it is in San Jose.”
Right: “I guess we just wait and see.”
Left: “That’s very logical.”
Right: “Well, I am a brain.”
Left: “I know the feeling.”
Right: “Moist and mushy, right?”
Left: “Hey, let’s really mess this human up. Let’s get him wondering if Babcock should shuffle his lines.”
Right: “Cool. I’ll take yes.”
Left: “I’ll take no.”
Both: “LET’S DO IT!”
And that explains my headache.
