We accept the fact that, when your hometown team is knocked out of the playoffs, the season is generally over. This is never truer than for basketball and hockey.
By the time the midnight sun rises, you start to hum the old refrain, "Wait till next year," and you pay only cursory attention to the ongoing shenanigans until the player draft or the leaves start to turn odd colors and shrink on the branches.
Yet, with a heat wave having taxed our air conditioners, and with daylight extending into early evening, we have discovered that NBA and NHL games, our idea of cold-weather indoor sports, are now gearing up for the Finals.
Finals? Even college and universities have finished with finals and have gone past Commencement and graduation speakers. You never see an NBA star on a playoff team as your Commencement speaker because he is only speaking to ESPN about his team's chances.
In Boston the only thing longer than the NHL season is the trial of Whitey Bulger. We expect it to end when baseball winds down and basketball starts up again.
Though we don't particularly like the Spurs or the Heat, we are in a conundrum over our Boston Bruins. We are not big hockey fans since Bobby Orr left town when Barack Obama was a child. Yet, the Bruins are heading to the Finals.
In June, we are skating on thin ice in Boston. We have had snow as late as June 9th back when we were a child in 1816, but can't recall a cold spell during NHL Finals since then.
It just doesn't feel like hockey season, yet devotees of boarding and high-sticking are wrapped up in their furs and mukluks worn over tank-tops and flip-flops at Boston TD Garden.
Hope springs eternal, or in the case of winter sports, hope summers seasonally.