Denver Sports Broke Us, Summer Break Saves Us

There are some episodes that feel like a normal show.

This was not one of them.

This Memorial Day edition of Ridin’ the Pine started where it needed to start: with respect. Before the Avs collapse, before the Denver sports pain, before the jokes about teacher summer break being the only thing keeping me alive, we had to take a second to remember what Memorial Day actually means.

It is not just the unofficial start of summer. It is not just the day the pools open, the grills fire up, and everybody starts acting like they are one white claw away from being a lake person. Memorial Day exists because people made the ultimate sacrifice. They made the choice one day to stand in the way of danger so the rest of us could sit here and argue about playoff hockey, blown leads, bad coaching decisions, and whether or not the Rockies should legally be allowed to ruin summers.

So we opened with gratitude.

Then we moved into therapy.

Because right now, Denver sports fans need it.

The Avs Did Not Just Lose. They Got Exposed.

Let’s not dance around it.

The Colorado Avalanche are staring at a 3-0 deficit in the Western Conference Final against the Vegas Golden Knights, and it does not feel like bad luck. It does not feel like a bounce here, a post there, and a few missed calls.

It feels like exposure.

All the good things we praised coming out of the Minnesota series have evaporated. The confidence we had, the belief that the Avs had put their playoff demons to bed, the idea that this was the best team in hockey — all of it ran headfirst into a Vegas team that has been tougher, deeper, calmer, and better coached.

And the worst part? Game 3 gave us just enough hope to make it hurt worse.

Landeskog scored. Kadri scored. Jack Drury buried a short-handed goal. The Avs were up 3-0, the building had life, and for about 20 minutes it felt like Colorado had finally found the version of itself we had been waiting for.

Then Vegas did what Vegas has done all series.

They did not panic.

They chipped away.

Mark Stone made it 3-1. William Karlsson pulled them closer. Keegan Kolesar ripped the momentum away. Tomas Hertl put the knife in. And Colorado, instead of responding like a championship team, went into a shell.

That is what makes this so brutal. The Avs were not beaten by one lucky bounce. They were walked down. They were forced to defend a lead they were never comfortable holding. They were pushed into a corner by a team that knows exactly how to beat them.

Vegas owns the Avs right now.

That is painful to type. It is painful to say. But it is true.

Vegas Is the Better Team Until Colorado Proves Otherwise

As much as we bleed burgundy and blue, there is no honest way to spin this series anymore.

Vegas is tougher.

Vegas is more consistent.

Vegas is more resilient.

Vegas is playing with better depth.

Vegas has found the formula, and Colorado has not found a counterpunch.

That is the part that should bother Avs fans the most. It is not just that the Golden Knights are winning. It is that they look like they understand playoff hockey at a level Colorado currently does not. They take hits, absorb pressure, survive momentum swings, and then make the Avs pay for every mistake.

Carter Hart has looked comfortable. Too comfortable. The Avs have not made his life hard enough. They have not crashed the net enough. They have not forced him out of rhythm enough. They have made him look like a playoff legend instead of a goalie they should be trying to break.

Meanwhile, the Avalanche stars have been too quiet, too inconsistent, or too compromised. Nathan MacKinnon getting hurt only makes the mountain steeper. Cale Makar returning should have been a spark, but it did not flip the series. The depth pieces have shown flashes, but the players paid to swing playoff rounds have not done enough.

The excuses are out of runway.

Vegas is the better team.

Is This a Denver Sports Curse?

This is where the episode turned from Avs therapy into a full Denver sports support group.

Because it is not just the Avalanche.

The Denver Nuggets already gave us their own postseason punch to the ribs. Losing to a shorthanded Timberwolves team without Anthony Edwards is the kind of playoff exit that does not just sting — it lingers. You do not get Nikola Jokic years forever. You do not get to waste championship windows and then pretend everything is fine because the vibes used to be good.

Then there are the Denver Broncos, who finally clawed their way back into relevance only to have the AFC Championship slip away in the most haunting way possible. A 10-7 loss. One game from the Super Bowl. A quarterback injury. A botched screen. A decision not to take points. That is not a blowout you forget. That is a ghost that follows you into the offseason.

And then, of course, there are the Colorado Rockies.

Do we need to talk about them?

No.

That is already punishment enough.

So, yeah, maybe there is a Denver sports curse. Maybe the Outlaws are the only hope left. Maybe we need a ritual. Maybe we need to bury a foam finger under Coors Field and apologize to Blucifer. I do not know. I am open to suggestions.

But right now, Denver sports broke us.

Rest in Peace, Claude Lemieux

This week also carried a heavier hockey reminder with the passing of Claude Lemieux.

For Avalanche fans, Lemieux was not just a player. He was part of the edge. Part of the identity. Part of what made those early Avs teams feel dangerous, hated, respected, and impossible to ignore.

He was a playoff legend. He was a champion. He was a reminder that hockey is not just skill and speed. It is will. It is pain. It is pressure. It is being willing to become the villain if that is what winning demands.

But his passing also carries a bigger message than hockey.

Check on your people.

The strongest-looking people in your life may still be fighting something you cannot see. The person who jokes the loudest, competes the hardest, or always seems like they have it handled may still need someone to ask the real question and actually wait for the answer.

Sports give us heroes. Life reminds us they are human.

Rest in peace, Claude.

Teacher Summer Break Is Not a Vacation. It Is Recovery.

After all that sports pain, we had to land somewhere lighter.

So let’s talk to the teachers.

Summer break is almost here, and yes, we earned it.

Not “kind of” earned it. Not “must be nice” earned it. Actually earned it.

Teachers spend 10 months as the mental, emotional, social, and sometimes spiritual support system for 30-plus kids at a time. We repeat directions until our souls leave our bodies. We answer “is this graded?” while actively explaining the assignment. We hear our names hundreds of times a day. We manage emotions, behaviors, missing work, parent emails, meetings, grading, lessons, hallway drama, and the occasional student who thinks sharpening a pencil is a full-contact sport.

So when summer break hits, it is not laziness.

It is recovery.

It is silence.

It is drinking coffee while it is still hot.

It is not having to say, “Please sit down,” for at least a few weeks.

It is remembering that we are human beings outside of the classroom.

And for me, this summer comes with even more meaning. A new school. A new teaching opportunity. A new chapter. I love my students, I am grateful for the year, and I am excited for what comes next.

But I need this break.

Badly.

Benchwarmer Members Got the Therapy Session First

This episode was released first for Benchwarmer members, and that is exactly the kind of content we want to keep building.

More raw reactions. More behind-the-scenes thoughts. More solo therapy sessions. More sports, teaching, life, and everything from the far end of the bench.

For $2.99 a month, Benchwarmer members get early access to exclusive episodes like this one before they go public. If you want to support the show, help us keep growing, and be part of the next stage of The Far End of the Bench, this is the time to jump in.

Because the content is growing.

The conversations are getting sharper.

And apparently Denver sports is going to keep giving us emotional material whether we ask for it or not.

Final Thought

Memorial Day gave us perspective.

The Avalanche gave us pain.

The Nuggets and Broncos gave us trauma flashbacks.

The Rockies gave us background sadness.

And teacher summer break gave us the only real hope left on the board.

Denver sports broke us.

Summer break saves us.

Now drop your Denver sports pain ranking: Avs collapse, Nuggets embarrassment, Broncos heartbreak, or eternal Rockies sadness.

And teachers — how many days until your nervous system realizes summer break is real?