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It’s April, Spray That Sharks Musk

Dany Heatley and Torrey Mitchell of the San Jose Sharks

My buddy in college, let’s call him… Pablo, kept going to the bars every Thursday night hunting for the winning lady. Not a fan of the sleazy hook-ups, he was looking for someone a little more meaningful. There was one he had his eye on over the course of several months from his marketing class, but she was full of games – leading him in to good conversation, flirtatious vibes, and maybe a little grinding on the Mother’s Tavern dance floor. Then at the end of the night, she’d scurry back to her friends and leave unannounced. He’d be bummed out and we’d round out the night with a 2 AM burrito and a game of Halo, discussing how she kept letting him down. But sure enough, he’d go next week, and there she’d be, and there was that burrito grande at 2 AM. Week after week. It never materialized, his bar tab was shot to hell and time on her arguably wasted, and he graduated and moved on.

And now, your San Jose Shaaaaarks on the power play! Year after year, we dress ourselves up, pump our heads full of pre-game music and anticipation, and get ready for the Sharks in the playoffs. We go to the Tank, make dates with our TV, spend some hard earned coin on tickets or a sweater, and grind up on Marleau and the boys on the NHL’s dance floor. We have done this for a long time, and every year they send us away shaking our heads, sitting up late at night, wondering what the hell went wrong. Maybe next year we’ll try this, maybe next year we’ll try that, maybe this year we have a new net-minder. Screaming with excitement, we would be, as we applied the Sharks decal onto our car’s rear window. We have Cheechoo this year! We have Nabby this year! We have Jumbo Joe! Teemu baby!

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Joe Pavelski of the San Jose Sharks

But year after year, as experts picked our boys in teal to win the Cup, President’s Trophy’s would arrive, and promise swept in from Joe Pavelski’s contrail, we would go home angry, frustrated, and let down. Year after year, the Sharks exit the playoffs before the Stanley Cup is even in the building sitting on a generic table waiting to be lifted. Year after year we pay off our April credit card statement, shuttering at the tab for the tickets up in Section 207 that you justified buying in lieu of a season pass to Heavenly or a flight to Vegas to play with the boys.

And here we are again. The Sharks battled last night for an overtime home win against the seventh seeded Kings. We have showed up on the dance floor again, shirt pressed and musk on strong, waiting to be impressed right back. We packed the building last night and yelled strong at the 3-2 win. But forgive yourself if it is a little harder to get the Sharks pre-party on this time around. Because after a few trips with my bud Pablo to the bar, I have seen how this show goes, and I have six bucks in my pocket that says I’m scooping sour cream from Chili Peppers onto my carne asada burrito a little after closing time.

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