By Sean Gallagher
Before Game 3 of the Predators' series against the Red Wings, I'd watched exactly zero minutes and zero seconds of the games. Granted, while I'm supposedly rooting for the Predators, it's really just a matter of semantics. I'm rooting against the Red Wings, whomever they play. The Hockey Gods have a sense of humor, obviously, in forcing me to now 'root' for the Preds in this first round.
Now, it's not to say that I hate the Predators. I dislike them much in the same way I dislike the Columbus Blue Jackets. I don't like them, I don't hate them, I just sort of don't want them to win much. In fact, what I hate about them more than anything is that I'm subjected to their ridiculous jerseys, boring style of play and goofball arena antics way too many times each year.
But I accidentally flipped onto the broadcast for Game 3 the other night. More specifically, I accidentally flipped onto the broadcast at the 15:45 mark of the third period. This is an important point because just 18 seconds later, the Predators scored to tie the game. With under four minutes to play, I decided to watch and see how the Preds would unravel in front of the hometown fans.
As you undoubtedly know, that didn't happen. Instead, the Predators scored again just nine seconds later to take the lead for the first time in the series. An empty-netter sealed the 5-3 win.
That's right, Predator fans, I'm your good luck charm. I saw 4:15 of one of your games and in that time, your undermanned team scored three goals in a come-from-behind win over the top seed in the West.
Unfortunately for you, that means you're pretty much fucked. Because there's no way I'm watching the game tonight, either.
So you can expect another loss to the Evil Empire because I can't be bothered to bring my good luck to your cause. I'm sorry, but your team is just way too uninteresting to me and watching the Red Wings makes me drink way too much.
I mean, unless someone from Nashville wants to pony up some cash or something. It's not too late, you know.