I'M A LOSER

I am finally somewhat recovered from the disappointment of watching Game 5 of the Stanley Cup when the Aneheim Ducks defeated the Ottawa Senators and captured their first Stanley Cup. I came home late from a Board of Directors meeting and only saw the last few minutes of the game. I did not watch the Stanley Cup presentation as I could not stand seeing "you know who" hoisting the Cup as part of the celebration.

It was not a good week for me starting with the Detroit Pistons eliminated by the Cleveland Cavaliers. It was not much comforting that the San Antonio Spurs buried the Cavaliers in a sweep on their way to their fourth NBA championships in nine years. The Boston Celtics, Chicago Bulls and Los Angeles Lakers are the only other teams in NBA history with four championship titles.

I selected the title, I'm a loser, in keeping with my fondness of the Beatles. Don't worry, I am not turning into a self-pity, forty-plus person who is facing midlife crisis, mobbing around feeling sorry for myself. Of course, I could be blamed for being a jinx based on the true facts from an incidence took place at the St. Louis Blues practices in 2004. That was the year when the Blues signed Chris Osgood from the New York Islanders. (Remember the year when the Red Wings sent Osgood to the Islanders to make room for Hasek.) I began going to see the team practice on the Saturday mornings. There were many fans, mostly kids waiting to the end of practice session to get autographs from various players.

I only wanted to meet Chris Osgood but there were always long lines and Osgood did not stay long after he was done. So I decided to get autograph from another goalie named Brent Johnson. His grandfather is Sid Abel who played for the Detroit Red Wings in 1938-52, traded to the Chicago Blackhawks and back to the Red Wings in 1957-58. Two weeks later, Johnson was injured, sent down to minor league and then traded to the Phoenix Coyotes. (Johnson currently is listed with the Washington Capitals.)

A few weeks gone by, I was again in line waiting for Osgood and when I saw the head Coach Joel Quenneville, I asked for his autograph. Lo and behold, the following week he was terminated when the Blues loss their 10th straight game the night before.

Still determined to get Chris Osgood's autograph, I went back to the ice rink the following Saturday. My husband still laughs whenever he tells the story about how the minute I walked towards the rink, Chris Osgood took off from his goalie post, skated so fast to the opposite side where I was and almost disappeared like a laser beam to the locker room. CP explained that Osgood heard about how I jinxed Johnson and Coach Quenneville. The words have been whispered around the ice rinks to all hockey players not to sign autograph for the short, chubby Asian woman.
Perhaps the best thing I could do for my favorite team is to cheer for the opponents and jinx their players with my request of autographs.