Woo, Kings fans, woo

Last night the Kings won the Stanley Cup championship*, the team's first NHL title in its existence. Angelinos were thrilled. They were not, however, eloquent.

It's one thing for fans at the game to be reveling in a way that limits their responses when reporters stick a microphone in their faces to "woo!" or something that deep. It's another thing when they call up the local oldies station, presumably sit on hold, and then when they finally get on the air and they have nothing more than "woo!" paired perhaps with stating the obvious (e.g., "Kings are the champs!"). While the enthusiasm is commendable, and the sentences uttered are factual, it does seem like one might wish to take a moment to consider what one would say before dialing the radio station.

Or at least, the station could make some effort to find a slight variety of callers' messages (as I believe they weren't live but slightly pre-recorded) so the airtime wasn't a cavalcade of basically the same cheering noise and factual statement over and over.

Again, I'm very pleased that our team was victorious, and certainly I share the ebullient tone of the callers, but I also fancy the notion that in a metropolitan area of millions there would be at least one or two individuals who could express that joy in a slightly more thoughtful way (if for no other reason than I like to pretend I don't live in an area that's exclusively idiots).

Of course, being thoughtful at that time probably makes one less inclined to want to go to the effort to call a radio station. The "woo!" crowd is probably those of the mindset that doesn't really think about what to say but merely dials. So the only samples the station has to choose to air are that kind; even if those aren't the only people dialing, they're presumably too numerous to allow any chance of an eloquent caller to get through.

But maybe that's the point of rooting for the winning team: one gets to turn off one's higher faculties and simply enjoy mindless revelry. Clearly my brain is not able to give itself over to that entirely, and that's why I don't end up on the radio.

Granted, although it would seem like in this moment of contemplating the "woo!" situation I would declare what I would have said, but the reality is I'm sure I wouldn't have come up with anything better than the chant "Go, Kings, go!"; when I hope for an eloquent caller it's not because that would represent me but because I want someone better than me. And it's only as a little contrast—I'm not putting down the "woo!" folks, but merely hoping for there to be not exclusively them. That's all.

These are the sort of problems one doesn't have when one's team loses; in that scenario one's mind cannot stop thinking—there's nothing but room for contemplating what didn't happen, what small differences could have changed the outcome, what calls by the refs were unfair, etc. Victory is inebriation, but loss is stark sobriety.

So back in New Jersey there were undoubtedly nothing but thoughtful callers. (There's no disappointed equivalent to "woo!"—well, at least not one that can be put on public airwaves.)

I suppose that may be the balance: happy and dumb, or sad and thoughtful.

Woo.

~

* I attribute this to the fact that I didn't watch a second of the game, nor listen to part of it, nor even check the score, nor did I wear any Kings' colors; it's only my complete avoidance of everything that they were not dragged down by me. You're welcome.