Day 46 - Hockey's Most Popular Halloween Costumes

Fans - Most fans are dressing as the Grim Reaper or Gary Bettman, representing the death of the 2012-2013 season.

Alexander Ovechkin - Is dressing up like a resident of Russia. Is going so far as to purchase a house, car, and cell phone with a Russian phone number

Managers - Collectively decided to skip Halloween, but plan on stirring up fan emotions in a witches brew.

Gary Bettman - Is going as a likeable villain, but can't decide between "Cold Heart" or "No Heart". Also finding creative ways to use his new catchphrase, "I Don't Care Bears".

Coaches - Are going as scouts. Oh, those aren't costumes, those are assignments.

Toronto and Detroit fans - Followers these two teams are dressing up as Egg Nog, so they can go as a Winter Classic.

Sidney Crosby - Once again going as Iron Man, not because he thinks he's a kid, but because he still thinks it's 2010.

Refs - Are going as Pop Warner refs. They have held this ruse since 1977.

Owners - The owners are dressing up in ball caps of their favorite teams, jerseys of their favorite players, and ripped jeans, with ticket stubs in their pants pockets. They are going as people who support hockey.

Day 45 - You Have Forced Me to Write Emo Poetry

I don't think
An empty rink
Makes much in profit
So please just ink

A new fair deal
And make fans squeal
When the players return
To praise and seal

It would be nice
To see on ice
The players in jerseys
Just pay their price

Please understand
Their high demands
They risk nothing
But their heads, teeth, and hands

These upturn seats
Could be replete
Even if this season
Can't be complete

I urge you
To purge you
Of this blood
So I don't have to dirge you.

Bring back this sport
of the gods I exhort
Give in to the fans
And their loyal support

Before we turn
Away and burn
Convincingly entice
My respect you must earn

I don't want to say I'll make'em
But here's my ultimatum
Give us back our hockey
Or we'll have to forsake'em

Day 44 - Urge to Kill...Rising

I think I now know the blood lust that every player on the Philadelphia Flyers must feel on the off-season. This is more than withdrawal. I have built up a tolerance NHL '12 and Stanley Cup Finals replays. I need more to keep me sustained. Everything I look at now seems to be an instrument for hockey. I saw some brooms in a closet and wanted to start my own league based on that concept. I even have a slogan. Every series is a sweep. I'm thinking of recruiting local athletes, maybe some of the leftovers from the championship Quidditch team if they didn't go and graduate.

Does anybody know anything about sports marketing?

Day 43 - Fantasy Football Island

A trilogy of terror concluded today as my fantasy team totally flamed out. For those of you unfamiliar with this tradition, fantasy sports has been best described as "Dungeons and Dragons for Jocks" and I have 4d6 + Crap when it comes to choosing my teams. Apparently, I need to get wedgied by both jocks and nerdy jocks. The anchor of my football team was RGIII, my wizard, who fell horribly the Goblins as represented by the oddly striped Pittsburgh Steelers a weekend of just terrible uniforms.

My season is all about done as far as fantasy is concerned and I have no hockey to balance this out. I need to beg and plead with Gary Bettman to bring back hockey so I don't have to resort to shoddy comparisons between obscure nerd games and football teams that wouldn't even exist in Madden '13.

Day 42 - The Meaning of Strife, the Universe, and Everything

I was looking forward to today to get me over the general malaise that had overcome me from Gary Bettman  ringing the executioner's death knell on this year's hockey season. On this day, I turned to both my alma mater, the NC State Wolfpack and my new found, girlfriend-led loyalty to Gainesville's Florida Gators. Hopes were pretty high for NC State, having been only two weeks removed from their win over #3 (and Gators rivals) Florida State and their amazing victory over the unamazing Maryland Terrapins after a huge defensive stop by the player of the game, the left goal post.

The game started basically as expected with NC State delivering an underwhelming performance against the Tar Heels of UNC, allowing 15 points in the span of 102 seconds. NC State refused to give up and they put themselves on top 28-25 to end the half. After one more TD in the 3rd quarter, it looked like the Pack was putting the game out of reach. However, I've lived in and watched Maryland and North Carolina area sports. I know all too well that a win is never guaranteed, not even in the final 60 seconds (the Miracle Minute still echoes in the recesses of my College Park memories). Carolina scored ten unanswered points, tying it up at 35 all with 2:09 to go. For most teams, this would mean overtime. For State, this was the grand opportunity to disappoint fans in the worst way possible. After Carolina fed of the surge of the tie, the Pack punted to Giovani Bernard, half Barry Sanders, half Devin Hester, and half cheetah (using UNC math). He returned the punt for a touchdown, after which the Tar Heels sea salted the wound with a two point conversion. It was time to turn my attention to my lady's Gators.

The Gators game picked up where the Wolfpack game left off. Dropped passes, missed tackles, a higher turnover rate than a McDonald's. The over-under for this game was 46, meaning analysts were predicting a pretty high scoring game, not West Virginia-Baylor levels, but still a fairly well-lit scoreboard. After the first half, the score was 7-6 in favor of the Georgia Bulldogs, a match that was lovingly described as a sixty minute game of bloopers by my lady Gator's mom. The field goal strategy implemented by Florida seemed to be paying off dividends, but ultimately, the 90th/91st, I mean the 90th meeting between the two schools was put away by Aaron Murray on a 45-yard touchdown after the refs ruled the Gators had only five yards to convert on a crucial play.

This weekend can only look up.

Day 41 - Is the season half-full or half-empty?

Gary Bettman has officially announced the cancellation of hockey through November, delivering the coup-de-grace on the full season and the incipient nail in the coffin for the entirety of the 2012-2013 season. The way this leg of the negotiations reminded me of that part in "Angels in the Outfield" where Joseph Gordon-Levitt beckons his father on when they would be a family again. Basically, Christopher Lloyd needs to team up with Donald Fehr in order for us to see any semblance of the world renowned ice sport.

Friday felt a lot like a divorce hearing. The players and the owners reminds me of "mommy and daddy fighting again". I'm half-expecting to hear Gary Bettman say, "now you kids can see hockey every other weekend and Wednesdays. And your new Uncle Colin will pick you up!" Divorce usually meant a lot less visual yelling but you were usually guaranteed twice the presents, so what I'm hoping will come from this is that we get a hockey that continues through August. And when the monthly fan support checks come in, I hope they count it as a hockey related cost.

PS: The answer is half-full. Hockey fans don't get depressed.

Day 40 - Forty Days and Forty Nights

We have now reached a Biblical milestone in this standoff between owners and players as the fans and the staff members become the collateral damage in this fool's errand that can only end in a temporary Pyrrhic victory for whoever comes out on top. For forty days and forty nights, there has been nothing but a downpour of negativity, a culture of hopelessness that seems to say move on, but like a clingy ex, I just can't seem to let go. I refuse to believe there are greener pastures out there and just want to see things like they were in the good old days, with my hockey video game covers dominated by Gretzky or Lemieux, with hockey games aired on ESPN for no reason or any reason, and with the Caps losing playoff serieses (sp?) in Landover.

On board this ark of despair, there are two of each kind of fan. There's the realistic fan, who has assumed defeat and has relegated themselves to a spiritual sequel of 2004-2005. They have adequately prepared themselves by storing up several hours of hockey classics on their DVR or they simply block away and repress any memories that hockey ever existed in the first place, calling it some sort of Canadian soccer when friends bring up the lockout in casual conversation. There's the bandwagon fan, which can come in two flavors. There's the typical bandwagon fan who cheers for their team when they are doing well. And then there's the bandwagon fan who is glad that there is no hockey to interrupt you during book club reading time. This is typically called a girlfriend and if you're dating someone who can't deal with the fact that you know Rod Brindamour's anniversary better than your own, then you should probably move on. Finally, there is the hardcore fan, who refuses to give up. It's like the rookie highlight of Ovechkin scoring that goal on Phoenix. These people are down, but they are not out. They will fight for this lost cause. They proudly adorn themselves with the jersey on what should have been game day. They annoy their friends with their delusion, but are almost pathetically loveable in their immense and undying obsession.

Tomorrow, the players' self-imposed deadline ends, with no talks between the owners and athletes. The outlook is gloomy and grim, but still I desperately cling to the thread of hope that the twig-wielders will return to the ice, with a full season, ready and willing to give it their all. I also feel that this is the Caps' year to win the Cup. I reject your reality and substitute my own!