Everyone deals with those common, plaguing questions that it seems everyone must ask you. We've all got a memory of being stuck at a party (unfortunately, not the fun, alcohol driven college variety) and having 20+ people ask the same question. What did you study in school? What are you doing with your life? Have you seen Uncle Joe's nosehair?
At first, those questions are easy to answer. History. What I feel like? And yes, he hasn't trimmed it in years.
But once you've heard the same question about twenty times in a night, a hundred times in a life, doesn't it get a bit old? Which brings us to the question that gets fired at me seemingly on a bi-weekly basis these days: Why in the hell do you like the Flyers?
Did I grow up in Philadelphia? Nope. How many times have I been to Philly? Twice. Once when I was 16, and a few weeks ago. That first trip ended in a dismal 0-0 tie with the Lightning, including an injury to Gagne and a nagging flu.. on my birthday. The second time? Witnessing the Flyers down the Capitals, 6-3, in the midst of an exhilirating atmosphere which has been unmatched in my life.
See, it all started with the Beezer. He was my first favorite player, and around the same time I was thoroughly immersed in the Legion of Doom. When Beezer moved to the Flyers, that sealed it. Flyers forever. I won't falter.
Now I find myself writing my first piece on this website, on the eve of yet another trip to Philadelphia. On Monday and Wednesday I will be a part of that crowd. This is my reward, after enduring years of never being able to catch the Flyers in Philly. Let's just say I've never been very popular in the Garden or in the MCI Center (the Verizon Center? I don't feel right calling it that yet). Don't get me started on New Jersey. On a side note, how's that rocking the red working out for you, Washington?
Consider this an introduction, and thanks for reading along. My name is Derek, and I'll be bringing you an outsider's Flyers fan view of games 3 and 4, from the heart of Philly.
I'll leave you with this for now:
Brodeur and Avery should auction off the chance to play golf with them in a foursome. 18 holes, no cameras. Get Bettman on the phone.