an ode to disappointing endings and horrible calls.

Hello bloggy friends.

I have a heartbreaking story to tell you.
You may not find it as terrible as I do, but feign sympathy for my sake, ok?

***

It was a weekend of two's for this hockey family.

Two siblings, both extremely talented.

Two do-or-die situations.
(My brother was playing for the AAA Illinois state championship, and a shot at nationals;
my sister was playing college hockey in Minnesota for the MIAC playoffs.)

Two really, really close games.
(One in Illinois. One in Minnesota.)

Two game-defining goals.
(My brother scored the game-winner with 2 minutes left in the 3rd;
my sister's goal put her team on the board halfway through the game, 2-1.)

Two referees on power trips.

Two goals that were disallowed, both for bogus high-sticking calls.
(If you know anything about hockey, you know that high-sticking is a ridiculously subjective call.
Hence, the refs-on-a-power-trip statement.)

Two games lost.
Both hinged on the same goal, taken away by the same exact call,
by two different referees, 600 miles apart.

Unbelievable.

***

P.S.

I must admit...

I wanted to jump the ref in the parking lot. Attack him with my air horn.

And anyone who knows me is now lying on the floor, dying from laughter.

'Twas a tragic weekend.