2017 is a bad year. It’s the five-tool player of bad years. Climate change is real and is laying waste. Our politics is a horror show. Nazis.
It goes further than that though. The scale of the human devastation unleashed in this year shakes the soul. Even just one of those stories – Puerto Rico’s destruction for example – can bring you so many different ways to drain you of your faith in humanity. The president will say something stupid. People will drink water out of Superfund sites out of sheer necessity like they were trapped in a simulation of Fallout. People who received aid for hurricane Harvey will turn their backs on the next in line. The darkness is vast and deep, and all of our making! Every single thing is a decision someone made because it was easier to hate, pollute, or destroy. All of it is due to our choices. We are the evil we wanted to see in this world.
So as we sit here in the autumn of our calendar and also probably our civilization, it would be nice to have some kind of hope – for anything, really.
Sports is the second last refuge of the scoundrel, so as we all collectively recoil from the world we’ve made an attempt to escape into fantasy, fate has conspired against us. We do not deserve happiness because we haven’t built it. Why should the Sabres be good? Why should the Bills defy expectations? What have we done to earn joy when we steadfastly refuse to build it elsewhere?
Shit’s heavy, folks. But as we sit here and watch yet another god damned turnover in the neutral zone or another missed block on the blind side, rest assured that we have all deserved this. No one who examines this period of history will look back at us with grace. We let so many around us live in poverty and pain when we have the resources to build wonders. We’ll be looked at as animals.
The last thing I have is trying to make the joint as best as I can for others. I want my friends and family to be happy. I want the players on the teams we root for to do well. Someone find some happiness in the wasteland, for Christ’s sake, I’m begging you.
It’s why the start of the Sabres has been so dispiriting. This was supposed to be a season of hope or at least competitiveness. This was the year that Eichel, Reinhart, and Ristolainen would take over. We might find joy in the success of others again.
You know one of the aspects of climate change is that our seasons can get compressed? Less spring or fall? Almost like we are taking time itself way from ourselves.