Ever since I can remember I’ve had a lucky shirt. In high school it was this red, ribbed t-shirt from The Limited and every time I wore it something amazing would happen. The hot guy would ask me out or I would ace a test I hadn’t studied for. This shirt was so lucky that I believe it to still be hanging in my closet despite not fitting me in over a decade. But shirts aren’t the only thing I’m superstitious about. I have lucky days of the week (it WAS Wednesday there for a while), lucky dates on the calendar (LOVE Friday the 13th) and lucky songs on my iPod (I firmly believe listening to “Rock of Ages” by Def Leppard before my interview is the only reason I got my last job).
I am especially superstitious when it comes to sports. And I know I’m not the only one. Find me a hockey player, playing in the playoffs, without facial hair. Last year during the final series for the Cup against the Canucks, I refused to wear anything blue on game days. Something nearly impossible for me to do since every thing I own is blue. But it all worked out! Thank God for black yoga pants.
After Sunday’s big Game 6 win over the Capitals, I hung up the pants and Ray Bourque t-shirt I was wearing with all the faith that they were lucky and would be again for Wednesday’s Game 7. While getting dressed yesterday, I threw on a black tank top under my t-shirt because the t-shirt is a little short and I would be more comfortable having something longer underneath. I also painted my nails a brilliant gold as I had before the Stanley Cup Finals Game 7 last year, only this time I didn’t add the black Shatter polish over the top. Sometimes it just comes out looking messy and I didn’t want to deal with it. And then we ran out of time before puck drop yesterday to listen to “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC.
I don’t know what I was thinking. I could feel the nagging at my subconscious even as I was making these changes and yet did nothing to remedy it. And this morning, while I continue to dry my tears, I just cannot shake the feeling that making these changes to my routine, to my wardrobe, to my life, is what caused last night’s heart breaking loss. The logical side of my brain is screaming at me to STOP BEING SO RIDICULOUS! It’s telling me that the Bruins didn’t play their best game and that the Capitals just wanted it more.
But there is a part of me that will always wonder if it was because I washed my hair or didn’t drink exactly three beers.
Sorry fellow Bruins fans. It’s all my fault. Next year I’ll dig out the red Limited shirt.