This is Part 3 of my retrospective on the Blue Jackets’ 2014 playoff appearance. I managed to attend 3 games over 5 days. Part 1 covered the first two days and the 2OT win in Pittsburgh. Part 2 was my view of the first home game, a loss. Today, my thoughts on Game 4 and some reflections on the year.
Day 5: April 23, 2014
When I arrived Monday for Game 3, I was swept up in the emotion. I was excited by the prospect of cheering with the crowd, I was still on a high from the trip to Pittsburgh, I had bought in to the bizarre blend of novelty and honor offered by a playoff game.
Today is different. There is still an energy, yes. Replacing nervous excitement? Nervous nervousness. I am tired and uncertain already. I’m only just on the bus down, not a good sign for surviving the rest of the night. Getting out and walking up the incline of Nationwide Boulevard, the party plaza at the top is also subdued. Or maybe it’s just me. Either way, it’s not affecting me quite as much.
I’ve spent less time soaking in the atmosphere and more time simply finding my seat. Yet again the place is adorned with “Let’s Go Jackets” signs, American flags cover railings, and the crowd is robed in blue. Unfortunately, my perspective hasn’t changed.
I'm probably projecting but it feels more nervous in here than it did Monday #CBJ
— Matt (@zekebud) April 23, 2014
Another phenomenal anthem later and we’re off. And… I wish we weren’t. We’ve kicked ahead just 11 minutes of game time and everything has fallen apart. The Pens have a shorthanded goal. The Pens have a powerplay goal. The Pens have an even strength goal. The audience is still pro-Columbus… but the Pittsburgh fans are here and loud this time. Each goal was met with enthusiastic cheers, successively more soul crushing than the last, now marking six consecutive goals for the Penguins in Nationwide. My eyes would hurt from rolling at this point if I had the decency to roll them. I have no idea what portion of the mass is pro-visitors, and overwhelming stunned silence is not helping.
This is a disaster. No good defense, Bob is garbage again. Barf. #CBJ
— Matt (@zekebud) April 23, 2014
I haven’t bothered to get up during intermission. Yeah, Jenner got a goal in the first. I just don’t feel it. At this point I’m just interested soaking up what probably marks the end of the season. We’re already assured a Game 5, yes. It doesn’t much matter anymore if this is how Game 4 ends.
With the second starting, the crowd has found a point of focus: the refs. After a first full of bizarre calls (both ways), the disappointment has been shifted to anger and that emotion has taken the arena. And then, after 14 minutes, Johansen strikes! It’s a one goal game!
This place is chanting thru the tv timeout. Holy lord #CBJ
— Matt (@zekebud) April 24, 2014
The CBJ faithful have come to life again! C-B-J, C-B-J, C-B-J, over and over, the noise, the screams, the people are standing, arms are flying wildly in jubilation, it doesn’t matter if the puck is in play, the emotion is finally bubbling over. What was once a hopeless scene has become breathless and propulsive. Only one more bounce, only one more bounce, and we’ll see a new game.
Score effects have reigned once more, and 20 minutes remain to save the year. So we board the rollercoaster. Evgeni Malkin continues to be brilliant, but he can’t quite finish. Matt Calvert dazzles, but is held at bay once again. James Wisniewski takes a penalty and tension builds to unthinkable levels. Time is running out, maybe the miracle isn’t supposed to happen.
Every bounce is taking years off my life.
— Matt (@zekebud) April 24, 2014
One minute remains, Bobrovsky is gone, the final moments are here.
And then, for no real reason, time becomes infinitely fast and slow. Somehow, Marc-Andre Fleury is behind his net. The puck has bounced past, a player in a blue sweater has control. Somehow, Sidney Crosby, the world’s best hockey player, can’t get a puck to land on his stick. The action slides further out into the slot. Unbelievably, it’s all happening at the same time. A single blink and it’s all gone, and yet the moment lasts a lifetime.
Through two collapsing Penguins and a diving goalie, there is a space. It is just bigger than a puck, and it exists for a fleeting second. Somehow, at the end of that space, Brandon Dubinsky is skating. And he has found the puck. This is actually happening. The yawning net exists forever beyond the final act of Pittsburgh desperation. Time is right again. The vacuum is filled with a roar.
After 20 minutes of despair, 39 minutes of redemption, and 1 minute of unbelievable fortune, the game is not over. The din has not finished, the spectators are bouncing, this is uncharted territory.
So we begin again, ready for the long haul. And then, with almost no warning, Marc-Andre Fleury delivers a gift. Nick Foligno has won the game!
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Everything is a blur. The cannon is fired, streamers land on my shoulders, the entire section is jumping, sharing high-fives, strangers are hugging, eyes are wide with wonder. After the 3 Stars are announced, the exodus begins. People are yelling, whooping in the stairwells, primal noises of jubilation echo through the chambers of the arena. Doors open to the night outside, the joy infecting the whole Arena District. Cars are honking at will, laughter spreads like wildfire, more random chants burst up for no reason at all. “C-B-J, C-B-J,” they echo throughout the night.
My day ends with a 30 minute wait for a bus, a pause that isn’t so bad surrounded by the smiling city. The final exit at the Ohio State campus is met by even more chanting, a surprise development. This is Buckeye territory and even they have bought into the Stanley Cup dream.
Postscript
I didn’t know that April 23 would mark the last NHL game I’d attend in 2014. I didn’t know that it would be the final playoff win for the Blue Jackets. I didn’t know that the new season would bring a difficult start, a massive list of injuries, a poor start to possession metrics and a terrible hole, a standing far below playoff position.
In retrospect, those five days of April playoff insanity were exhausting and invigorating. Reflection brings about a strange blend of optimism and sadness, that this is the kind of high hockey fandom can bring, that the playoffs are so far away from this point.
Realism suggests that this version of the Blue Jackets has an uphill climb to the playoffs, that we’ll probably need to wait another year for that kind of reward. And yet, hope draws. The specter of late April playoff attendance is a distillation of hope, a pull back into Nationwide, back into my Jeff Carter sweater.
I hope that 2015 is a fun hockey year for the Blue Jackets, I hope that we’ll see moments that surpass the incredible joy of April 2014. All the while, I’ll hold onto the memory of five days, three games, Marc-Andre Fleury, Matt Calvert, Nick Foligno, and two victories willed from the brink of defeat.
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