- April 26, 2024
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Whether you're a 12-year-old little leaguer or a 29-year-old pro, if you play a sport, you live for playoff season.
BY MATT MENCARINI | SPORTS EDITOR
One of the reasons I love sports is that you’re never too far from the playoffs.
Right now, we’re in the midst of NHL, NBA, college baseball and college softball playoffs. And that's not even counting the local circuit.
Not too long ago, on May 23, I was at the Dale Buttleman Softball Complex waiting to cover a youth softball playoff game. when I happened to catch the end of the youth baseball playoff game between the Braves and the Tigers, which ended in a walk-off home run and a pretty solid mobbing of the batter at home.
The softball game was postponed due to lightning so I returned home, just in time to catch the start of Game 4 of the Chicago Blackhawks and Detroit Red Wings Western Conference semifinal game, a game the Blackhawks lost 2-0 to go down 3-1 on the series.
However, the Blackhawks came back and won the series 4-3, and now lead the Los Angeles Kings 2-0 (as of Monday) in the conference finals.
The two post-season events, the Blackhawks' comeback the youth baseball home plate mobbing, have almost nothing in common to the eye untrained in true sports fanaticism. But for fans like me, I couldn't help drawing parallels.
The Blackhawks and Red Wings were tied 1-1, in Chicago, late in Game 7, May 29, when Niklas Hjalmarsson scored what appeared to be the series clincher. But a call negated the goal and eventually sent the game into overtime, which is where I found the common theme with a little league game in Ormond Beach.
As I stood and watched that sweet-swinging little leaguer round the bases as an outfielder tried to track down the ball, his teammates and the parents in attendance went bonkers. The player was met at home plate by his teammates — pure joy on their faces — and cheered as if they had won the World Series.
Brent Seabrook’s Game 7 overtime goal eliminated the Red Wings and sent the Blackhawks players into a frenzy. They rushed the ice and surrounded Seabrook, hitting each other on the helmet and looking toward the rafters — pure joy on their faces — and screamed victoriously.
Seabrook makes about $7 million per season. That little leaguer may get a few bucks each week in allowance. But in each of their respective playoff wins, at least for a moment, they were the same.
