Okay, let me start this out as honestly as possible. I like to blog when I have an opinion that no one in my family shares or cares to hear. As such, with no hockey, a lack of interest (still) in football, and a sort of depression when it comes to cycling, there hasn't been much to say. Well, now there's hope.
I, like many, was completely caught off guard by yesterday's news that the NHL had come to the table with a new (much more reasonable) offer. They also finally learned a lesson or two from the NHLPA. Rather than simply say they had offered, it was the union's turn, blah blah, and simply leave it to the jaded public to be pulled around by our collective ear, they let slip one important detail: the deal had an offer of a 50/50 revenue split. That is huge progress considering that a.) the union currently holds a 53/47 hold and b.) the best the owners had countered with was the reverse: a 47/53 split. Honestly, what fool sits there and thinks to themselves, sure, I'd love a 6% loss of all revenues. Sign me up for that one? As an underemployed person in this economy, I might be tempted to take such a job, but not to return to what I did (which I did not love) and with no real improvements in, well, anything. It would be like if I went back to the company I left (think certain colored delivery vehicles) and they offered me less than I had been making, they cut my benefits (wait, this is starting to sound familiar) and any chance of a bonus. Then, to cap it all off, I find out that the upper echelons of management all got huge raises. I'm talking new car elevator type raises. Would I like that offer? Hell, no. (To be fair to my former employer, I left when I moved, not because I was downsized. But, on the other hand, learning my Christmas bonus was cut while full time supervisors' were not, well, that still rankles. This also has little to nothing to do with hockey. Sorry.) And, of course, there are the sticking points hidden after the stroke of genius that lead to the led out headline of an offer for a 50/50 split. Rookies, Unrestricted Free Agents, Mega Contracts. All hidden in the details. (Isn't that where they say the devil is?)
And so here I am, waiting. I'll admit, I methodically checked my phone every hour yesterday until finally breaking down and accepting that a change was not immediately going to happen. My sense of hope jumped out of me and screamed for a result, but logic prevailed. (I have, of course, already checked for an update this morning.) Hope is funny thing. It keeps us coming back even when the last three hundred and forty two times have yielded nada. It keeps us coming back when time three hundred and forty three only hints at a better outcome. I love the sport of hockey. For some crazy reason, I have not pushed it aside with bitterness and betrayal as I did with football, and seem to be doing with cycling. (Hey, in my defense, that season is basically over. Still, might be watching the Tour next year with the mute button on. Damn television keeps adding subtitles though. Is it too much to ask for just the sport, and no opinions other than my own?) As love has not turned to hate, or, even worse, disinterest, hope still springs up eternally every day. I had taken to giving up, letting my Twitter feed tell me if there was something, but refusing to go looking otherwise. Now, I'll be checking on an every other hour basis. If there's still nothing today, maybe I'll scale that back to every third hour on Thursday. Where does this lead? To the same nearly apathetic, ever so slightly depressed cave I was hiding in? Or a renewed sense of eagerness? Do I keep checking? Hmm, well, let's see if the three hundred and forty fourth time is the charm.
BlytheLea L.E.
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