Friday night, June 12, 2009, at 8 pm EST, in Detroit, MI, a game 7 will be played between the Detroit Red Wings and the Pittsburgh Penguins. That night, one team will get to hoist the Stanley Cup, and the other team will go home having given everything they could, and having come up short.
Friday night, June 12, 2009, at the Grizzly Rose, a few miles from my apartment, Sugar Ray will be playing in concert.
I got my first CD player in 1997. I was 10 years old. With it, I got four CD's. I got that damn "Barbie Girl" CD by Aqua (this is what happens when your grandma goes to stores and asks whats popular), and I got Tubthumper by Chumbawumba. I have no idea what happened to those two CD's. But the other two CD's I got with that CD player are in my CD wallet in my car, and 12 years later, still get occasional play in my car. Those CD's were Fush Yu Mang by Smash Mouth, and Floored by Sugar Ray.
When I first drove by the Grizzly Rose about a month ago and saw "Sugar Ray - June 12" on the side of the building, I knew this was a great chance to finally see in concert a band that I've loved since I started discovering music on my own, as opposed to just hearing whatever my parents listened to. I've heard good things from several people about Sugar Ray in concert. I wanted to see them. But I knew that it was possible that there would be a chance of a scheduling conflict.
The NHL playoffs were going on, and especially with the impending (and since cancelled) long layoff between the conference championships and the Stanley Cup final, it was extremely likely that a late series Cup final game would be scheduled on that night. So I didn't buy advance tickets, and figured we would wait and see what happens.
In the excitement building throughout this series, I'd forgotten about this concert being on June 12. I'd forgotten that the date for a game 7, if necessary, was June 12. I woke up this morning, and in the shower, the thought occurred to me that if I'm going to go to that concert, I should get my tickets soon. And then it hit me.
Fuck you, Rob Scuderi. Fuck you.