The record-breaking streak is finally broken. That's how I feel in my heart..."broken". They say "all good things must come to an end," but I never thought I would have ended like this. Despite being out-shot, out-hustled, and the absence of Pavel Datsyuk, I don't think any of that had to do with the loss. The main factor is the fact that a close, but will remain unnamed, friend did not take me to the game. On Todd Bertuzzi bobble-head night, of all games. He has the audacity to call me minutes before he enters "the Joe" to tell me how I've been trumped by his girlfriend for the night. I bite my tongue and wish them well, knowing that as much as I do enjoy his girlfriend, I know that I have been in the arena for 4 out of the 23 home wins, and she has not been there for one. I hang up the phone and place my head in my hands. Hockey superstition sets in, and I begin to sweat. Here I am sitting on the same couch in my living room, in the same underwear, wearing my same Red Wings hat, and eating the same dinner I've had before every Red Wings home win during the streak, and something just felt off. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, and I know it's not completely their fault the Wings lost. But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't think that, had it been my butt in the seats at "the Joe", the Red Wings would be looking to win #25 on Saturday. Save the date nights for Pistons games, boss. Let this be a lesson to us all.
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