Now I know you, NHL and NHLPA, might not even acknowledge this breakup letter since you’ve been roundly ignoring me lately. But I’ve been reassessing our relationship lately and realized I don’t love you anymore. Sure, I still love the old you and the idealized you, but it’s just not the same anymore. We need to break up and there’s no ‘let’s just be friends’.
I’ve known you since we were kids. I’ve gone to 100’s of hockey games during my life and was a season ticket holder for 5 years. I’ve watched you on TV as much as your dismal media contracts and policies would let me. I have jersey’s, t-shirts, jackets, underwear, pajamas, stickers, pucks, etc. out the wazoo. I played fantasy hockey for the past twelve years and obsessed over the stats of nearly every player in the league. I’ve celebrated some of my most important accomplishments and life events with you at the stadium – getting engaged, getting that new job, moving back to St. Louis. I’m happy and boisterous when you win and I’m sad and pissed off when you lose.
In other words, I drank the kool-aid early and often and kept coming back for more through all the previous strikes and issues in the NHL. I purposefully overlooked and forgave your past transgressions, not to mention your complete and callous disregard for my own opinion on hockey matters.
You’ve given me excitement and entertainment over the years but it’s just not enough for us to stay together any more and maybe not even enough for us to ‘just be friends’. So, consider this abusive and one-sided relationship over…and I sincerely hope all of you choke on the piles of cash we fans have given you over the years.
Happy St. Crispin’s Day! Today is the day to focus on and celebrate fighting the good fight. Not that you won or lost, never had a chance, or had no doubt of victory, but only that you stood together and fought for something.
So dismiss the immediate cares of the world, gather your friends, grab your beverage(s) of choice, and boast or bemoan of the battles you fought together. Read the following out loud with friends with gusto!
From Henry V:
his day is called the Feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day and comes safe home
Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall see this day and live t’ old age
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours
And say, “Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.”
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars
And say, “These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.”
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember, with advantages
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words —
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester —
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.
This story shall the good man teach his son,
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered,
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition.
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s Day