The only thing I’m really feeling about this upcoming Western Conference Finals against the Detroit Red Wings is that I want it to get going. I can’t decide if I’m nervous or scared or confident or delusional.
There is plenty of analysis of the series around the internet and I’m sure they all make good points, but you can pretty much tell if they’ve just been reading the Stars’ box scores or actually watching their games. Most pick the Red Wings, but not all, so I’m not the only one that can’t tell how it’s going to go.
Those guys actually watch the Stars play.
As I’ve said many times, I don’t make predictions. I’m too superstitious, and I know how mean I am to people who make serious, earnest predictions that don’t come true and I don’t want to have to listen to that kind of thing myself.
I will say, though, that I’m not as afraid of the Wings as I was at the beginning of the playoffs and in the regular season. During the season I just found those games on the calendar and marked them as losses before they were even played. And during the first round, my second-most fervent wish for that round was for Detroit to be eliminated so we wouldn’t have to meet them.
But now, two six-game playoff series later, after dispatching the defending Stanley Cup champ Anaheim Ducks, and then kicking out the hugely favored San Jose Sharks fairly handily, I’m not so sure about that any more.
The Stars are just sloppin’ over with confidence, as Daffy Duck would say. It doesn’t seem to be the kind of confidence that gets you stunned by the opposition. I seems to be the kind of confidence you get from actually being a good team, from seeing what the other team is bringing and then turning them back.
They’re starting to convince me.