Agony of a Penguins fan

The Detroit Red Wings won the Stanley Cup tonight with a 3-2 victory over the Pittsburgh Penguins in Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals.

Congratulations to the Wings, who showed a lot of speed, playmaking ability and physical play throughout the finals. They are a solid team and it's tough to dislike a team that has class acts such as Niklas Lidstrom, Chris Osgood, Henrik Zetterberg and Pavel Datsyuk. Even the players I want to hate (Tomas Holmstrom, Johan Franzen, Chris Chelios) are ones I know I would like if they played for my favorite team.

My favorite team is the one that was on the losing end in the finals. It's hard to say the Penguins played well in this series because they were thoroughly outplayed in five of the six games. Only some outstanding goaltending by Marc-Andre Fleury made this series competitive.

Being a Penguins fan, it was a helpless feeling throughout most of the series watching Detroit completely bottle up the Pittsburgh offense. The Red Wings just smothered them at every opportunity.

But there was hope. That came thanks to Monday night's triple-overtime victory in Detroit that pulled the Penguins within three games to two. And there was still that sliver of hope in the last two minutes of tonight's game. Down two goals and on a power play, the Pens pulled Fleury to basically have a two-man advantage.

Marian Hossa tipped in a slapshot from the stick of Sergei Gonchar with a minute and a half left. The Penguins then pulled Fleury again in the last minute, setting up some last-second dramatics.

As Sidney Crosby took a shot with three seconds left, there was still hope. And when Marian Hossa desperately tried to put the puck past Osgood, it was down to that one final heartbeat of hope.

And then the clock read all zeroes. All of a sudden, all hope was gone. I just stood there watching the Red Wings celebrating on the ice. It was a helpless feeling.

I sat down and kept staring at the TV, trying to process everything. I watched the players go through the traditional post-game handshakes and started feeling a little better.

After Zetterberg was awarded the Conn Smythe Trophy as the MVP of the playoffs, it was time for the Stanley Cup to make its appearance.

Having sat in the arena many times over the years, it was surreal watching the Cup being brought out to the ice. I dreamed of the day the Penguins would be the ones carrying the silver chalice around the rink.

But instead of Crosby, it was Lidstrom who was presented with the Cup. This was just too surreal. This was the first time the Cup ever had been decided in Pittsburgh, and the wrong team was getting it.

Instead of turning off the TV, I sat and watched as the Cup was passed from Lidstrom to Dallas Drake, then onto Daniel Cleary and followed by the rest of the Red Wings. I figured if it was the Penguins winning, I would want the other team's fans to acknowledge the effort, so this was my way to at least show some appreciation to a true championship club.

As the celebration went on, I got sadder and sadder. It was getting tough to not cry at this point. I really was feeling bad for Osgood, who has always been underappreciated and now was being booed by the many Penguins fans who stayed around to watch the Cup presentation.

Why do I care this much about something that, in the grand scheme of things, isn't that significant? Why invest so much emotion into a sports team?

As I finally turned off the TV, my fiancee, Sherri, came into the room after watching tonight's episode of "Top Chef." She's not a hockey fan, and I'm not going to try to make her one. She has invested enough into her son's sporting endeavors over the years. At least when it's one of your own kids, it's worth caring about.

Sherri asked me if I was going to cry into my towel. I said I was going to be OK, but that I was feeling depressed about this.

Sherri then said, "If you're depressed about this, then you're not coming to bed with me. It's only a game."

I told her I would be OK and came into bed.

I just wish she understood how I felt about what happened tonight. More importantly, I wish I understood why I felt so bad over an insignificant hockey game. But I don't think I'll ever understand, and maybe it's better that way.