Sometimes I stubble and fall

All sports have their inexplicable superstitions and traditions and in this regard ice hockey is no different. For an outsider it would hard to justify the logic behind the practice of throwing octopus onto the ice during the Detroit Red Wings home play-off games. Octopus tossing in land locked Detroit dates back to the 1952 play-offs symbolising the, then, eight wins required to win the Stanley Cup. To a Wings fan the talismanic properties of the cephalopod are unquestionable as it delivered them the Cup in three out of four years from 1952 which is why the tossing (followed by the twirling of the octopus by a zamboni driver) still persists today.This season alone has seen this activity mimicked across the league with waffles (in Toronto), catfish (in Nashville) and salmon (in Vancouver) raining onto the ice.
In the highly competitive world of professional sport sometimes it comes down to the "one percenters" to bring the team up to the one hundred and ten percent required to taste success. The Vancouver Canucks turn to Towel Power to provide them with the edge as they vie for their first Stanley Cup in franchise history. Unlike the regionally specific one percenters like towel twirling, one tradition is universally observed by all those who are striving to secure Lord Stanley's over-sized chalice: the play-off beard.
The play-off beard is a serious undertaking, that transforms the face of hockey from a Gillette commercial into a festival of facial follicles. 
I do not believe that I can over emphasise my importance to the Vancouver Canucks organisation. Since my arrival in Vancouver, the team has turned some sketchy early season form into the best regular season in franchise history. It is no small coincidence that my presence here has helped the Canucks claim there first President's Trophy and it is why the team looks to me now to grow a play-off beard of distinction.
My beard has become so emblematic of the team's fortunes that it begs the question which came first the stubble or the success.
In the first round the Canucks met the Chicago Blackhawks, last years champions and the vanquishers of Vancouver for the past two years in the play-offs. For the early part of the series my stubble looked strong and steady growing in form and stature as the games progressed. At three-nil up in a best of seven series my beard appeared to have an unassailable lead but suddenly the follicle foundations became shaky. The beard output became uneven and unpredictable, in some areas the growth halted completely and confusion reigned as hairs were going off in every direction. This lack of unity in beard purpose allowed the Blackhawks to storm back and level the series. Heading into the deciding game several questions were being raised around Vancouver about the quality of my beard and whether it is was it was all that it was cracked up to be as the phantom itches of forty years of play-off beards came back to plague the minds of Canuck fans. 
Game Seven justified the hype providing an intense and see-sawing contest. At times the Blackhawks seemed be a Mach 5 with aggressive, razor sharp blades coming from all angles threatening to prematurely cut short my play-off beard aspirations. In the end it took an overtime goal send Chicago packing and the Canucks, who had sustained a few nicks and cuts, through to the second round.
The Conference semi-final series against the Nashville Predators proved to be one of those dour periods of beard growth where there is not very much excitement. Keen observers will note the discipline in the trimming and maintaining of form against a team that has built its' reputation on the thick defensive lather it throws over opposing play-off beards. In the end my beard prevailed and Nashville returned to the two things it understands better than ice: country and western music.
The Vancouver Canucks have harnessed my beard power and returned to the Western Conference Finals for the first time in seventeen years and now face another perennial under-achiever: the San Jose Sharks. Last nights victory in the opening game has my stubble looking thick, even and fashionable, once again providing hope that the Canucks are only seven wins away from scratching the forty year Stanley Cup play-off beard itch.