Game-day. It’s a huge fucking deal. It’s all that matters the day before, the day of, and the day after.
It’s important to let all those around you at work know that you’ve got an unreal Beer League tilt in less than 36 hours and can’t be bothered with petty work bullshit and co-workers complaining about something you may or may not have said about the weight limit of elevator when being stuck in it with a couple rhino’s.
Here’s a chronological breakdown of what goes on at work and home before/during/post game day.
The Day Before:
The mental and physical preparation of having to stop 35+ the next night is becoming real. All you talk about the day before is how you’re getting ready physically (by eating Chipotle for lunch because it’s high in ‘tein) and how everyone within a 20ft radius of your desk needs to know how huge you have to play in order for your Eric BENDros of a team to have a prayers chance at winning.
“Fuck my eyes I’m going to be so fuckin’ sore after tomorrow.”
“Got a big game against the 5-hole Ticklers. Gonna get chippy out there.”
“Yo, we’re going to get some fresh salads for lunch, you coming?”
“Dude I just told you I need to prep for tomorrow. Bowl. Double Meat, Double Guac. Huge tilt tomorrow remember?”
The Day of:
You’re fired up. Nothing at work matters and you can’t be bothered with anything, let alone the simple tasks that are direct requirements of your job description.
9am meeting? CANCELED.
Lunch with client? PUSHED TO NEXT WEEK.
Boss needs you to work late? GRANDMA DIED.
You’re dawning any and every piece of pre-game ritual and superstition based flare that HR let’s you get away with: NHL Team hat, taped knuckles, water bottle on your desk for quick mid-email swigs.
You bounce early from work by swiftly fleeing your desk and looking concerned like you need to shit your pants as you head for the door not talking to anyone or making eye contact..because your Grandma died earlier as you stated.
The Day After:
This can go either 1 of 2 ways: You’re either still flying high as the fatigue of your 10:50pm slot hasn’t hit you yet because you managed to propel your team to a W,
You sit at your desk sore, demoralized, and a little raunchy (rink showers never stick) as you lost yet another game your team should of won.
Both involve telling all the employees around you and at the coffee watering hole how you made unreal saves to win, or how you made unreal saves to keep the game within grasp.
Either way your work friends pretend to care for about 4 min and then everyone sits back at their desks and browses Barstool and Bro-Bible until lunch. You however, check your stats and schedule to see when the next barn burner is, because you need to start prepping even earlier if you want the taste of sweet late night victory.