Experience A Four-Overtime Hockey Game As Told By A Losing Team’s Twitter Account

Sports teams’ official Twitter accounts have been getting more attention of late, and there’s something fascinating about one man being tasked with representing an entire organization’s viewpoint, and doing so as a stream of consciousness rather than a prepared statement. It’s sort of like a press conference that never ends, only you can’t see the reporters, you don’t get asked many questions, but everyone expects you to just talk. Not all team Twitters are created equal, but the good ones tell something like a story, in real time, with the authority of the account from which they tweet.

The AHL is the NHL’s developmental league, closer to the NBA’s D-League than to baseball’s minor leagues, and they’re in the middle of their playoffs, just like the NHL. In their Western Conference Semifinal series between the Utica Comets and the Oklahoma City Barons, Game 1 was a four-overtime marathon that lasted more than five hours and ended after midnight. It was so long that, at one point, a camera carrying the feed blinked a “low battery” warning:

The Utica Comets lost that game, and whoever runs their Twitter account had to cover the whole damn thing. Let’s witness a person tasked with the name of a franchise fight sleep, crushing boredom and encroaching ennui to fulfill the minimum of his or her job requirement. We pick it up as regulation ended:

Have you ever received a text from someone who uses a period at the end of a sentence, making it seem like they’re mad at you? It’s a strange phenomenon. This was the tweet equivalent of that. This is a person unhappy with extra hockey. Case in point:

That’s a brave face to put on, but the subtext is plain. Grin and bear it, Comets Twitter person.

I SAID GRIN AND BEAR IT!

I will not include all tweets like this, but there were a lot. These tweets resemble the sonar pings of a distress signal, patiently reminding anyone in range that this person is still alive.

The AUD is the Utica Auditorium, at which the listed attendance for this game was 3,835. I doubt that many were still there in the middle of overtime, and I further doubt their ability to rock. But Comets fans, feel free to correct me in the comments.

This is the same pattern as before of disillusionment at the continuation of the game, followed by an attempt to rally excitement. A compelling human drama.

I love the fellow AHL social media manager needling his counterpart, if only because it’s a special kind of dickishness. You shouldn’t make fun of someone who’s taking the late shift because there but for the grace of God, yada yada.

Okay, now that’s a distress signal.

The game ended 2-1! How is that possible? Each goalie had at least 56 saves, and their pads will never, ever smell the same.

That picture is not of a fight, but of a pile of tired-looking people in front of a goal.

We’ve entered tortured ellipsis phase. The ellipsis signals dread. Case in point:

Back to the action:

By the time this game ended, it cracked 96 minutes, shattering the previous record.

We know your exclamation point is a lie, Comets Twitter. We understand.

Hopefully this person was in a room with other humans because the vibe of loneliness this gives off is upsetting. We’re with you now, Comets Twitter. In spirit, anyway.

Gotta have that Ballghazi tweet. That’s Rule 1 of Sports Twitter. Also, right about now is when the camera flashed the “Low Battery” signal. Let’s take a moment to respect the cameraman, capturing footage that perhaps less than 100 people were watching, and stressing about his battery dying.

The veil has been dropped. No more false exclamation points. Now the world knows your suffering.

Now that’s good team twittering! The players are eating pizza between overtimes? That’s phenomenal, and we commend whoever sent the pizza. I hope the Twitter guy got to have a slice. I don’t think the Ice Hogs sent that coffee and donuts order.

The clock had struck midnight, and Comets Twitter was through the looking glass. In Utica, I can’t imagine many people stay out past midnight on a Thursday.

This person is convinced the game will never end. But, in a shocking twist, it ended just a minute later:

The numbness. The desperation. The morbid relief at the whole ordeal being over, soured by the lack of reward. I bet this person doesn’t even get paid overtime for tweeting. You may have felt alone, Comets Twitter. You may have felt as if you were sending messages in a bottle out to sea as the last of your supplies dwindled (unless you got pizza), but you can rest easy knowing that we understand your struggle. We commend your dedication, and we sympathize with your plight. Five damn hours is too much minor league hockey.

(Via The Big Lead)

×