Tuesday, April 11, 2006


But my calculator says we played well . . .

These numbers guys have some nerve. All formulae and no heart, that's what I say.

Tyler has the stones to accuse virtually the entire Oilogosphere of being unable to "handle the ups and downs that come from cheering for the Oilers."

He claims that "cheering for the Edmonton Oilers . . . is not for the weak stomached or the faint of heart. It requires faith and constancy and the ability not to get bogged down in the horrific present."

In other words, he would like us all to be Zen Masters, trusting in the power of the probabilities to lead us from this horrific present and to deliver us a glorious future.

Nay, sir!

Cosh discussed this way back in November, and he defined once and for all the Soul of an Oilers Fan.
"I wonder if it's a coincidence that the real war on the Battle of Alberta weblog has involved Flames-loving host Matt sitting back, smirking, and pretending to hover loftily above his own team's struggles while the Oiler fans who comprise the majority of the site's readership rend their flesh like teenage goths . . .

But urging good cheer is pointless. The Edmonton Oiler fan has been chosen for a special role in the dramaturgy of the National Hockey League. It is a role which fits him well. He is the modern analogue of the Russian serf . . . Little can he guess what the wind will blow to the doorstep of his frost-laced lair; his instinct tells him that it cannot be anything too good. In a fog of superstitious inarticulacy, he awaits the hammerblow of history."

Beatin' ourselves up after a bad loss is what we do, dude -- numbers or no numbers.


I don't think I've ever been described to poetically before. Thanks Cosh!

There is nothing quite like an Oiler fan. Your post captures the gnashing of teeth and rending of collars that follows many of the team's losses, but overlooks the giddy heights you experience after a good win.

When your guys knocked off the Kings a couple of weeks ago it sounded like you'd won the Cup, or the Olympic gold, or maybe both on the same night.

I don't know how you managed to experience your actual Cup victories without having your hearts explode with joy.

Jeez, that joke's older than Stan Fischler, and just as lame.

It doesn't have the specificity of asking what the difference between the Calgary Flames and bra is, which incidently, also works on the Dallas Stars.

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