The Dream goes to Binghamton

Haven't really written much since The Dream came to be. I've been thinking a lot about that because... well... I write. About everything. But especially hockey, Brusty, and things that generally rock my world. Which The Dream is entirely about.

But I think I finally figured it out yesterday. I write to "process" or to make you guys laugh or make myself laugh or to solidify something that I can't quite get a grasp on. Writing about something makes it tangible for me.

This is completely different though. It really is The Dream. And dreams are ephemeral. I don't have words for it because there aren't words. It's real, it's like vapor. If I try to bottle it or give it shape, it loses its essence.

So, with that, I'm just letting the dream "be" in terms of writing about it.

In terms of living it, however, I've got that sucker by the throat. I've got it so by the throat that I'm writing this post on the plane with the Aeros headed for Binghamton.

Yep, 25 honey badgers at the back of the plane, determined to hoist the cup. Coaches, doctors, trainers, staff. And me. How the fuck does that happen?

Nevermind how. It just does, at least this time. So my principle concern is making the most of it. I don't know that I'll ever have another chance like this.

(I wrote the above bit on the plane and suddenly the wifi cut out, so I'm finishing now that I'm at the hotel, which smells like boiled cabbage and makes it clear why the team sprung for a charter...)

That said, the view out my window is fantastic. I'll tweet a picture tomorrow when the sun isn't in the perfect spot to glare it all up. Follow me on Twitter for constant-to-the-point-of-annoying updates of everything going on here in Bingotown. At least everything that won't get me in trouble to say.

It's supposed to be "humid" here tomorrow. I can't wait to see what they call humid, but there is a LOT of water in this area. Rivers everywhere, so I'm kinda buying that humid could actually mean pretty humid.

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Okay, one last comment on the dream: I would love to know the odds of these teams playing each other in the finals. And I don't just mean the straight odds of any eastern team playing any western team.

I mean the odds of the random team that picks up MY goalie playing MY team in the finals. And throw in some further unpredictability because if Mike Brodeur and Pascal Leclaire hadn't spent all season going to the doctor, he would have been playing for Elmira.

Granted, the Leclaire injury was pretty much 100% predictable, but still... Oddsmakers, mathematicians, have your way with this one.

I'm gonna guess that it's lottery-winning sorts of odds.