Last night, on Twitter, I posed this question to followers: This Flyers season was equivalent to __________? I received many responses. Most of them were frighteningly realistic. The plummet from pleasure to pain was palpable. Here's a summary of the Flyers' season, put into, shall we say, human terms. Godspeed.
Imagine you’re a senior in high school again: It’s late spring. Things are going surprisingly well for you. You just got into your “reach” school. You have no idea how or why, but you did it. Your grades weren’t that good- B- student at best. Your extracurriculars were non-existent. Yet, somehow, you blew your SATs out of the water and come from just enough money to entice the development office, which needs to hit an aggressive endowment goal, to lean on admissions hard enough so that they will accept you.
Things are good. So good, in fact, that you even met a girl. It was dumb luck, really. You were coming home from picking up swag at your soon-to-be school’s – it’s local – bookstore when you ran into Briana, the delightfully sexy, yet somewhat mysterious head cheerleader at your high school. You and Briana have been neighbors since, like, forever, but despite numerous attempts to snap her bra in the sixth grade and that one time you caught a glimpse of her in her window – it was an honest accident, I mean who doesn’t position their desk chair against the side window while dim light provided by a single candle sets the mood as Dashboard Confessional massages away your anxieties? – you were never able to seal the deal.
You were always plenty cool enough. You sit at the cool kids table, hang with the jocks, but, for some reason, could never quite land the hot girl. This is was your chance, and you made the most of it.
You somehow mustered the courage to ask Briana out. She said yes, and you were able to impress her with a charming but not cheesy day-trip to the beach, the place where she planned to spend the upcoming summer before starting at – ZOMG – the same college.
At the end your little date, you pulled the old let’s watch the moon on the blanket routine. Incredibly, it worked. All you wanted was one kiss, but next thing you know, it’s happening: mind-blowing sex. She explained to you that she never does that, and that it was only because she felt so safe in your arms. You had your doubts, but convinced yourself that your recent trips to the gym must have paid off. Safe arms. Plus, it was a rather bright waxing-crescent.
The euphoria of that night quickly waned, however. Just a few days later, as your high school career neared its end, you found out Briana had a boyfriend. It had been a poorly kept secret for most of senior year that she was dating one of the jocks, but you chose not to believe it. Unfortunately, you weren’t just told about their relationship, you saw it. For yourself.
When you opened the mens room door just outside of your science classroom, the last thing you expected to see was Briana and the jock, yet there they were. You slammed the door shut before you could really take a mental picture, but it looked like something was hanging out of the jock’s mouth. Weird.
Anyway, things are still good. Briana is at the shore now- out of site, out of mind.
Your summer goes well, even though, despite your better judgment, a part of you thinks that you can win-over Briana once you are both on the same campus. Apparently, her and Jocko broke up just weeks into the summer.
Fast forward to the fall. College is great, you’ve made a number of new friends, including a foreign kid who makes for an amazing beer pong partner. He speaks little English, but his ability to knock down both cups in the split-diamond formation – sans re-rack – was enough reason to make him your wingman. In fact, it was because of your new friend that you find yourself at this ridiculous off-campus frat party. And guess who’s there? Briana. Your judgement left you around your third game of beer pong, and you now find yourself going for gold… which you get. Twice. And once in the morning.
Briana takes you to breakfast in the dining hall. She used her meal plan. She’s a sweet girl.
She explains the whole situation with el Jocko. They had been dating off and on for a year, and “it was complicated.” You nod your head as the painful memory of his shit-eating grin creeps into your mind, but you don’t let her see you sweat. What’s done is done. You stay cool, and she assures you that nothing like that will ever happen again.
Winter approaches, things are going great. Your and Briana’s parents had a blast rehashing old neighborhood stories during parent’s weekend. You and B enjoy each other’s company, you study together, and meet for lunch in the quad each day. It has every element a good relationship should have.
Your drinking game is going well, too. You and your broken-English speaking wingman (well, he’s more like a sidekick now since you have Briana) continue to dominate in beer-pong. You realize that he’s not all that diverse, though. He can’t really communicate all that well and his jokes are lame. But that’s cool, his split-diamond technique is still the best on campus.
Things do get a little dicey between you and Briana over Christmas break. After two months of the honeymoon phase, reality starts to set in. You’re both back home. Jocko swings by Briana’s house. She tells you she dismissed him, but you could swear you saw him enter through the side door, which Briana always keeps unlocked. It’s most likely your imagination.
A few weeks later, when school starts again, things are back to normal. You and Briana study together and arrange your classes so you can continue to meet for lunch. Everything is perfect, if not a little mundane.
It’s that boredom that leads you to start thinking that something may be missing. Even though there were moments filled with more mind-blowing, WTF just happened sex – specifically around Valentine’s Day – you still doubt the relationship’s longterm viability. With that being said, you go ahead and plan a post-finals trip to Costa Rica. You wanted to do it during spring break, but you figure the summer will be more fun. It will be a way to celebrate the one year anniversary of your moonlight kiss. Awy.
Despite all of this vacation talk, things quickly spiral downhill. It turns out Briana has the same doubts as you. She starts blowing you off for lunch, gets “headaches” seemingly every night, and when she doesn’t, those cheapo health center contraceptives keep breaking. You can’t win.
March is a real struggle. Mid-terms get the best of Briana. Her stress is palpable. When you ask her about it, you get the same cookie-cutter answer: “I told you last semester, I’ll snap out of it once these tests are over.” But you think it goes deeper than that. The lunches started being skipped long before mid-terms and she never publicly @s you on Twitter, it’s always a direct message now… like she’s trying to hide you from someone.
It gets worse. Even though finals are over, the sex has completely stopped. You’re never sure which version of Briana you’re going to see: The energetic, charming, yet somewhat unpredictable one, or the pseudo-loving but I’m tired let’s go to bed one. The worst part is, you never know which mood is coming next. It’s like relationship roulette, so you decide to ask her about it…
It turns out she thought something was wrong with you, and it killed her confidence in the relationship. She doesn’t know how to act, she says. After a long talk and some feeling-sharing, things immediately reverse course.
The weather is getting warmer, more time is spent outside, and you guys even take an off-campus trip to Rita’s. Orange ice. Mmm. You’re back.
Or so you thought.
Just as quickly as it came back, it started to go away again. Her mood swings are getting more drastic now. One minute she’s energetic, unpredictable girl, the next minute she’s loving but lame. Hell, there’s even wild moments where you could swear you see glimpses of the girl you remember from late last spring… the one who couldn’t keep her legs closed. Even with all the flip-flopping of moods, you quickly tell yourself that last thought isn’t fair, and put it out of your mind.
Finally, you make one last honest effort. Even after another day of mood swings and uncertainty, you guys have a great, innocent date. All of the things that made you fall in love with Briana resurface. You knew staying on campus for the short Easter break would pay off.
A few days later, the fun continues: Mind-blowing, rivals last spring type sex. It was so good, you go ahead and place your final deposit on the trip to Costa Rica. You’re going. Just a few finals stand between you and paradise.
Later that week, as you start your packing for both the end of freshman year and your trip, you decide you need another suitcase. Briana, who spent the previous night in her own room because of stomach problems, has a bunch of extras you know she won’t use. You decide to head over, even though her window is closed on this hot day. Most likely she’s still not feeling well and just wants some more rest. There’s a small part of you that fears something is up, but you ignore it.
Or at least you try to.
Walking over, the fear gets worse. By the time you get to her door your heart is racing. Instead of knocking, the sleuth in you decides to go with the element of surprise. You punch in her key code, 7475, and fling the door open. Boom, there she is.. in bed.. with Jocko, who is now invading your turf.
You can’t believe this is happening. Yet there he is. Same feeling, different circumstance. This time you leave the door open long enough to take a mental picture. You finally see what was hanging from Jocko’s lips: a mouthpiece. Briana was fucking Kris Versteeg.
Ladies and gentlemen, the 2010-2011 Flyers.