I Don't Care Anymore
I'm going to the Leafs game tonight. It's their last home game of the season, against Pittsburgh, and it doesn't matter to anyone whether they win or lose. Last Saturday the Leafs' last hope of making it into the playoffs was stomped out. There'll be no Stanley Cup playoffs in Toronto this year. There is no joy in Mudville.
You have to wonder why they bother to hold the game at all. In baseball, if the winning team is last at-bat, they don't bother to play. It seems cruel, somehow.
Wearing my Ed Belfour jersey also seems unneccessarily cruel, but it's the only Leafs jersey I own.
The thing is, I understand how the Leafs feel about this game; how they'll feel playing it. It's how I feel right now, proctoring my second year marketing class's final exam.
The last time I saw their 42 faces, two weeks ago at our last class of the regular season, I cared about them. I went through a review for the final, and gave them my "Ten Tips for Doing Well on Exams." I wanted them to do well. I wanted to encourage them. I wanted to give them all As, so they'd like me. (Not that I would, mind you, I'm just saying I wanted to, then.)
But that was two weeks ago, when the post season hadn't yet been decided. When there was still hope. Now, I don't care anymore.
They do not know this, and please, Gentle Reader, don't tell them. I don't want to hurt their feelings, if they care whether I care; if they thought I cared; If they knew that I did. Let them think I still do.
I don't care anymore, because I won't be here in September.
Oh, sure, I'll finish off the season. Play that last game. Mark their exams, and submit their final grades. They bought their tickets; they'll have a game. But it won't matter to anyone.
Maybe I'll stay at this university for another year, maybe not. It turns out there's hope after all. (That always seems to happen right after I give up on something completely.) Maybe I'll move to California instead.
You have to wonder why they bother to hold the game at all. In baseball, if the winning team is last at-bat, they don't bother to play. It seems cruel, somehow.
Wearing my Ed Belfour jersey also seems unneccessarily cruel, but it's the only Leafs jersey I own.
The thing is, I understand how the Leafs feel about this game; how they'll feel playing it. It's how I feel right now, proctoring my second year marketing class's final exam.
The last time I saw their 42 faces, two weeks ago at our last class of the regular season, I cared about them. I went through a review for the final, and gave them my "Ten Tips for Doing Well on Exams." I wanted them to do well. I wanted to encourage them. I wanted to give them all As, so they'd like me. (Not that I would, mind you, I'm just saying I wanted to, then.)
But that was two weeks ago, when the post season hadn't yet been decided. When there was still hope. Now, I don't care anymore.
They do not know this, and please, Gentle Reader, don't tell them. I don't want to hurt their feelings, if they care whether I care; if they thought I cared; If they knew that I did. Let them think I still do.
I don't care anymore, because I won't be here in September.
Oh, sure, I'll finish off the season. Play that last game. Mark their exams, and submit their final grades. They bought their tickets; they'll have a game. But it won't matter to anyone.
Maybe I'll stay at this university for another year, maybe not. It turns out there's hope after all. (That always seems to happen right after I give up on something completely.) Maybe I'll move to California instead.
4 Comments:
Dude, it's exactly like when you have no postseason hopes, and yet you stil have ten games to play.
I know how it is, and I salute you. Hoist a beer for me.
"You have to wonder why they bother to hold the game at all."
Two words: Ticket proceeds.
So, um, where will you be, and why? (Or have I been asleep at the wheel?)
Eddie Belfour?
Now I'm sad. I haven't heard that name in years. He was once a Blackhawk here in Chi-Town and I loved him. Haven't watched hockey since they let him loose. Him and Jeremy Roenick, that is. The Hawks suck. Hockey in Chicago sucks.
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