Over at Covered in Oil, they have a good reality-affirming post about separating hatred from the team from hatred of the fans. It's a good, rational post, needed in these heady and passionate times. The internet makes it especially easy to lob verbal grenades at the other team's fans, whether mocking Avalanche fans for alleged lack of knowledge of the game, or mocking Red Wings fans because often, they live in Detroit.
My hatred of the DRWs aside, I've been friends with some of their fans, seen hockey games with them, and so forth. They've seemed like decent blokes if a bit sadly misguided. But they're no more or less capable of greatness or stupidity than those who back any other team.
Ok. Now hold that thought.
In the eternal pursuit of pointlessness, I've started online dating again. I'm not proud of this, not remotely. But I own up to it because a) everyone's doing it, b) it'll become awkward if I start blogging about dates and I've left this detail out, c) despite Atlanta being a rumored beehive of single 30-something women, I am damned if I know where they hang out, and d) at least I'm not going the mail-order bride route. Yet.
So anyway. I've started this up. And started communication with an attractive, intelligent, well-traveled, well-read girl. And exchanged a few e-mails with her, and found her to be pretty appealing.
You see where this is going, don't you?
She's a Red Wings fan. Diehard, apparently. (I went on a few dates with a Wings fan about two years ago, but she was of the "is Yzerman still playing?" stripe.) Passionate enough that it's one of the things she tells an anonymous weirdo on the web.
Hijinks will ensue!