April 24, 2009
(Ed. Note: As the Stanley Cup Playoffs continue, we're bound to lose some friends along the journey. Gone but not forgotten, we've asked for these losers to be eulogized by the people who knew the teams best: The fans who hated them the most. Here is Detroit Red Wings fan The Chief from Abel To Yzerman, fondly recalling the Columbus Blue Jackets with a homage to "Marley and Me" called "BJ and Me.")
By IwoCPO of Abel To Yzerman
Thanks everyone for coming. Kind of impromptu, but I think BJ would be glad you're here.
Damn this is hard. I told myself I wouldn't let myself get too attached. Back when my whack job Uncle Gary brought BJ to the house and said all she needed was a good home? I resisted it. I kept her at arm's length for so long.
Looking back, I just wish I'd let you into my heart earlier BJ. I'm sorry. But dammit, I didn't want to get too close. Because I knew you'd be gone soon. And you were. Very, very, very quickly.
And now that you've left us? Well BJ, I have some things I'd like to say about you and I want the world to know how I feel. You were a good dog. A great puppy and you'd just started to grow up when we lost you.
Oh, at first you were undisciplined. You ran around yapping and pissing all over the place. So we did what any responsible dog owner would do. We kicked your behind again and again. Three times in a row we beat you down because that's how you discipline an unruly puppy. And you took it BJ. We learned to respect you for that.
You made runs at some of our other dogs, the big ones, like Franzen and Stewie. But you were all wobbly and you looked like a drunken baby. We laughed at you and then kicked you a little more. But deep down inside we saw that you had potential.
And you never scared us BJ. You came into our lives as a rambunctious little fur ball, full of life and optimism. Last night, you yipped a bit much and even started to nibble. But then it was time to go. You left as a whining bitter bitch but that happens when you don't understand the rules and you start touching things you shouldn't. People will be talking about that today BJ, about you sticking your paws where you shouldn't and paying the price for it. You leave us early, but you've taught other little puppies a lesson through your untimely passing.
That big truck was too big and too fast for you BJ. A few months ago you wandered near the road and the trucks would stop, understanding that you were just a puppy. They'd sit there patiently and wait for you to cross.
But they couldn't wait forever BJ. This time? You inched out too far and the big red and white truck squashed you like a frigging bug.
Oh, BJ. We'll miss you. The whole family will. But you've gone to a better place where there are no Winged Wheels to terrify you in your sleep. No dog trainers who talk mean to you with mouths full of fast food. Just you and other puppies who've wandered into the path of American made vehicles. Soon, in about three weeks, you'll be joined by some Duckies too.
Rest easy BJ. You were a good puppy. In another life, and in another place, I think we'll see you again.
If we do? Well, we'll probably kick your ass again. But at least you'll know what's coming.