An open letter to fans of the Washington Capitals

To whom it may concern:

Do you care? I mean, do you really care? If you go to a Capitals game and they lose to, say, their biggest rival, does it matter to you at all? Because it matters to me, and unfortunately, I think I’m in the minority.

Let me explain.

The Caps are experiencing some turbulence right now, there’s no doubt about that. It’s been a bumpy few weeks, and the team’s fortunes will continue to ebb and flow as they adjust to the management style of their new bench boss. If you expected Hunter to return to Washington and the team would immediately start putting together 4, 5, 6-goal games, you obviously haven’t been paying attention. It’s a work-in-progress, and patience is key.

For what it’s worth, I think last night’s game was a good one, with the team showing marked improvement in their defensive end, especially with regards to back-checking. They played smart, extremely physical hockey and were done in by a weak shot that somehow made its way by (through?) Tomas Vokoun. A game like that is to be expected against Pittsburgh, however, and if the team came out flat, we’d have a much bigger problem on our hands.

My issue does not lie with the team itself, but rather you, John Q. Ticketholder. Getting back to my original query, do you really give two shits whether the Caps win or lose? Or do you go to games, rock the red, unleash the fury, etc. because it’s the cool, trendy thing to do in Washington these days?

Things have changed dramatically over the past 4 years, since the miraculous season-ending run to make the playoffs after Boudreau’s Thanksgiving weekend hiring. You all have come out to the Verizon Center in droves, and while it’s evident the fan base has become increasingly more passionate and knowledgeable since that 2007-2008 season, it seems pretty clear that most people don’t actually care.

Sitting in Section 114 last night, I witnessed a really disheartening lack of passion from the majority of those around me.

Imagine the scenario: the Caps are down a goal to their biggest rival (part of arguably the best rivalry in the sport), the fury has already been unleashed (a few minutes prior) and there is a defensive-zone faceoff coming after a lengthy TV timeout. There are about 3 minutes left in the game and players from both teams are milling about to stay loose.

Sensing an uninterested and unenthusiastic crowd, I stand up and, from the depths of my throat, encourage others to do the same. To get pumped up for a huge draw, for the final minutes of an intense, passionate game, for their damn team. The response? Lackluster at best.

A few people stood and cheered, and I was happy about that, but the majority looked at me as though I was asking them to stand in front of class for that presentation they didn’t prepare enough for. It was, in my opinion, an absolutely pathetic display of fandom and one that irked me to no end, until the end of the game and well on my way home.

Look, I know Caps games are fun. They’re the place to be (and be seen) in DC sports right now, and for good reason. But think about what you’re doing. You’re there to support the guys on the ice, and during lengths of poor play, don’t you think they’d be appreciative -- and maybe even dig deeper within themselves for the final minutes -- if people got out of their seats and cheered without being provoked?

Unleashing the fury, while a solid tradition, is relatively worthless in retrospect. What happens the second after the fury is unleashed, even when it’s a tie game and there are fewer than, say, 2 minutes in the game? That’s right, everyone sits back down and the decibel level drops.

Is it that hard to get pumped up without having the PA tell you to be pumped up? Or do you simply think that it’s not worth it? Trust me, it is.

Players respond, and while it’s unfair to expect people to go ape-shit the entire game, I think the lack of passion shown in the final minutes of a tight game, against the best team in the conference -- the team’s biggest rival -- is very telling.

It bothers me, frankly, and it should bother you too.

Why? Because I care.