There were signs. Right now they're clear, but we all should have noticed them as they were happening:
- Rallying from an early 3-0 deficit, Drexel traded shots to the face with Virginia for over 60 minutes en route to a 13-12 defeat at the hands of the Cavaliers. The Dragons were defeated, but not terminated. You cannot kill what can be only damaged.
- Down 10-3 at home against Albany (keepers of mercenaries simply catalogued as "The Thompson Trio," a triumvirate that registered a huge kill the week before in Syracuse, New York), Drexel wiped its face from the blood oozing from their multiple head wounds and started to slowly pound the Great Danes with a mace, putting together an unanswered six-goal run over a six-minute stretch between the second and third quarters, an unanswered five-goal run over a three-minute stretch in the third quarter, and an unanswered four-goal run over a six-minute stretch in the final period. The Dragons were victorious -- a 20-19 win -- because mortal wounds are merely temporary in Drexel's existence.
- Facing a three-goal deficit at the start of the third period against Villanova (and having not won a faceoff all day), Drexel picked up the leg that had been amputated from its body via amateur surgery, re-attached it with bubble gum and duct tape, and proceeded to slowly stalk Villanova, chucking throwing stars at the Wildcats until Villanova eventually succumbed to the numerous pieces of steel protruding from its being and vital organs. Drexel, once again, stood victorious as celebratory plumes of fire were exploded behind them as a doctor attended to the Dragons maladies.
I am now convinced that Drexel is as close to invincible as possible. This is a non-negotiable conclusion. If the Dragons are able to survive everything that they've faced so far this season, I am inclined to believe that Drexel can also survive any of the following:
- Should robots revolt against their human creators during one of Drexel's upcoming games, Drexel will merely assess the situation, do one of those eye roll things that indicates a level of unimpressiveness, and tear robot hearts -- just a mass of wires or something -- straight from those robot chests, eat the wires, and become even more powerful, washing over their competition with a seven-goal run in the final 15 seconds of play to win, 18-14.
- Should the North Koreans actually make a nuclear rocket that isn't made of Styrofoam cups and wheat not given to their starving peoples, Drexel will catch it in their collective crosses, toss it back to North Korea with one big swing of their sticks in perfect synchronicity, and receive a citation from the Department of Homeland Security for "Excellence in Protecting American Freedom While Winning a Lacrosse Game."
- Should Hofstra exchange their lacrosse sticks for laser cannons, attempting to generate a Drexel forfeit by eliminating all of the Dragons with extreme prejudice, Drexel will don their laser-proof vests and win in impressive fashion, 11-9, while only losing two players as collateral laser-cannon-to-chest damage.
I am positive of all of this, and it's not just due to Drexel's recent results. No, it's also because Aaron Prosser and Garrett McIntosh can survive an engulfing fire while playing lacrosse:
(Click to enlarge.)