Why The Sabres May Never Lose

The Mets will be the Yankees of the 21st century. By 1919, the White Sox were the Yankees of the 20th century. You can have your steroid-head-havin Roger Clemens and I'll have my 40-year-old skinny tough guy Tommy Glavine, whose name is suddenly one hundred percent Queens New York.

Not that I can pay attention. The Sabres have scored 6 goals in the second period against the chippy Philadelphia Flyers. "Chippy" is an inside joke between me and all the Flyers fans who are reading this.

The Sabres are past the Flyers by now. They are in the upper echelon of the National Hockey League, in their new flashback sweaters. I'm watching the game and I'm holding tight to the view of the fans in the stands at the new Aud as we cheer our team. Their faces are tired and content, only days after over a third of a million Buffaloneans lost their electricity if not their car or half of their home to the snow and the trees.

My man Reyes and his Mets are dancing in the dugout, studying the game, preparing their antics. Their innate knowledge of the game no match for, nor reason to stop the pranksters in the clubhouse. Sort of a throwback bunch. Willie Randolph will be remembered as being a Met, not a Yankee. His playing career will be an incredible Ruthian answer to a trivia question from a game played by a bunch of 9-year-old geeks in 2081. "Ruthean" will be long-forgotten, something spoken in plays and historically-accurate Bushian-era epic holograph movies.

I cant tell you how I know these things will happen, but I can be trusted.

The Sabres just got back the goal the Flyers snuck in there to start the third. 7-1 about 1:40 into the final period. Thats another inside joke, and it has nothing to do with a pun.

Someone may have put something in my drink tonight. And since there's no one else here with me, I know it must be a covert operation.

And my eyes are stuck on the hockey game, watching this blowout, simply sitting in the stands in a land which seems far, far away, instead of paying attention to what I should be paying attention to, which is the must-win game for the New York Mets.

Which brings me to my next point - must-win games. There is only one must-win game in any given series. One cannot, logically, be faced with more than one must-win game in any given series.

But, logically, oh, man Novotny just scored and it's 8-1, but, logically, the Buffalo Sabres wouldnt be buried in a curse, either, would they? And yet they are.

And so I wonder what kind of situation we're in right now. I mean to say: Is this real or is this all a dream? Only a dream could render a curse, so a miracle is inevitably an available antidote. So perhaps there exists more than one must-win game for the Sabres this season. It's quite possible that they need to avoid all losses in order to stave off the mighty teeth of the curse in wolves' clothing.

And another for Vanek. I think thats his second of the night. And I'm not even paying attention to the 21st century version of the New York Yankees. Long live the Mets! Long live the Sabres! Long live dreams!

Now now, lets not get too cynical. Anyone, after all, can experience glee and joy. Even a Buffalo fan. They deserve it, and, mother@!$%#er, I deserve it too.

And you cannot expect a Sabres-Flyers game to finish the last 15 minutes of a 9-1 game without a few rumbles. Thats a throwback we can all agree on, colors aside.

I'm very sure that someone's gotten in through the back liquor cabinet and @!$%#ed with my head. So I'm off to cover the hole in the wall. Stay dry, friends, a hard rain's gonna fall. Pray for a dream.

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