Stupid Hockey Superstitions

Hi. My name is Crazy Newt, and I am a crazy hockey fan.
"Hi Newt!"

I, uh, well... I'm a pretty rational guy. I'm not very religious, and I believe fully in the power of rational thought over mysticism and superstition. I am not spiritual in any way, and I don't believe in the supernatural, divine powers, or fate. I believe logic should always prevail over faith-based arguments. I am a skeptic.

But, well, all of that is thrown out the window when it concerns hockey.

"Tell us more, Newt!"

Okay.  Every year, during the playoffs, I stop shaving the day my team starts playing, and I grow hideous neck beards as a result.  And they're really hideous next beards, man.  Every time I turn my head, the friction starts a small fire.  And I already get enough "flaming beard" comments as it is!  Not to mention the second degree burns are never fun.

But I sincerely believe that, by not shaving, I am contributing to my team's odds of success. Even though thousands of other fans are also not shaving, trying to affect their own teams' odds of winning.

"But Newt, Playoff Beards are a hockey tradition! You're not crazy for growing one!"

Ah, my fellow idiots, but that's not the whole story! It gets worse.

"Oh.  Well, tell us more!"

Check this out. I cannot talk about my team winning. If they have a five goal lead, the other team's goalie is an asthmatic wheezing on the ice, and there's only two minutes left in the game, I will still not say "well, they've got this one in the bag" or anything to that effect.  And I will get frightfully angry if the announcers say something to that effect.  And heaven help them should they say the "shutout" word. 

I fully believe that the second I make a prediction on my team's success that my team is DOOMED to fail. I blame the 2008 playoffs against the Calgary flames for this one, during which the Sharks blew a three goal lead in one game and nearly lost the entire series as a result. 
"well, uh... that's just superstition, but I guess it's okay...."

Oh, you stupid fuckers.  It gets worse.

"Um, tell us more?  Also, hey!"

Listen up.  Every time I watch the sharks play, I have a certain rule that I have to follow. I must have on me an odd number of items with a sharks logo upon them.  Seriously.  I feel compelled to do this.

I sincerely believe that, should I have an even number of logos on me, my team will lose.  And possibly, people could die.

This means that, when I watch a game, I usually have my sharks-branded ipod in my pocket, a sharks toque on my head, and one of my sharks jerseys on. And should my head get hot and I need to take off the toque, I have to do so at the exact same time I remove the ipod from my pocket, bringing the number of logos down to one.  I have also gone in the other direction, wearing two jerseys, my sharks ipod, drinking from sharks mug, wearing a sharks tshirt, my sharks toque, AND my sharks cap. 

I'm crazy.

And I honestly, seriously, believe that failure to do this will result in my team's losing. 

"Okay, yeah... that's just crazy."

I know, guys. I know.  My name is Crazy Newt, and I'm a superstitious hockey addict.

"That's great.  But this is a McDonald's.  Are you going to order anything?"

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