(Originally published at Kukla’s Korner, January 6, 2013)
The lockout was announced as over on January 6, Twelfth Night. Was it an industry-wide epiphany? Was it time to clean up, as is traditional in many Christmas-celebrating households? Was it just Ed Snider’s birthday present? Was that the prize in the plum cake?
It seems like I should be feeling something like this:
If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound,
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more:
’Tis not so sweet now as it was before.
Hm. Nope. I mean I can see how it would fit but the strain and the dying and the sickening and the sweetness just aren’t there.
I fed some horses this morning before even checking Twitter for news. Once I saw it, I went and fed some more. Then moved some around to new pastures. Then cleaned the cat’s litter box. Checked Facebook. Did some correspondence. Still nothing.
Last night this made me feel something:
@Russostrib: “Transcribing a bunch of interviews for my Tuesday #gophers takeout. Just dawned on me: this could be my last Gophers feature”
I read that and felt a twinge of sadness, anticipating all the roster shifts and wondering how fans would respond. Do the Bulls have enough of a foothold to weather this direction shift? How many of those 5,000+ who went to the game Friday would return this next weekend? Will the San Francisco media have the sense to keep paying attention? They need that team, do they know it? But I was worrying about all that last night, before the lockout ended. This morning doesn’t feel any different.
Over the past few days I was wondering what my hockey schedule would look like when the NHL came back. In there I decided I would still write about the Bulls, maybe set a target of once a week. To some that seems like an easy target, but I’m a lousy shot. I don’t even know if I’ve hit that during the lockout.
As for the Sharks, well, I’m sure I’ll get all enthusiastic and intrigued and start wondering and hoping and stuff… eventually. It’s not like I bought tickets to leave the country. I did put it off after all, and I don’t feel much of anything about that either. I’ll go somewhere new, it doesn’t have to be Bratislava right now.
I didn’t get around to taming the second kitten, but my challenge was only to tame the one, and he’s been running around my feet, rubbing against my ankles, biting my toes and climbing on my leg for about a week and a half now. So I’m happy about that. Still can’t pick him up but I don’t think I promised to reach such an advanced level of wild cat training with him.
I was sure I’d feel something powerful when the lockout ended, something to offset that anger from before. Something.
For now, here’s the kitten: