“You know what you should write about?” my friend Trish says, as we sip wine on her balcony.
“Hockey! It’s the play offs, it’s topical, it’s interesting“, she says, making bold hand gestures to emphasize her points,promoting each word with verve, like a motivational speaker throwing out random buzzwords like ‘synergy’.
I smile politely, nodding enthusiastically. Meanwhile the hamster in my brain-wheel has stopped spinning to scratch it’s head as if to say: “Do you know who you are talking to?”
The hamster is right, I really don’t know much about hockey, and come this time of year, always forget about it’s very existence.
“Hockey is still a thing? I thought it was summer time”.
Having lived in New Zealand and Australia for nearly three years–countries where cricket is more the thing (if hockey was ever playing, I never noticed), and so I kind of…forgot about hockey. But then again, I am not really a ‘sport’ person, even though I come from a family where rugby is the game of choice. All three of my brothers and my father played, and I would have played, but would have probably gotten distracted by a butterfly on the field and then crushed by a pack of robust bloodthirsty women. And I wouldn’t be the exquisite beauty I am today. Ben and I went to an All Blacks vs Wales game in New Zealand, which was loads of fun; even the most unenthusiastic person can get behind a live sporting event.
I’ve gone to the occasional match to see my brother play, but I generally have no idea what’s happening, I cheer when Mark has the ball, and the rest of the time, I’m chatting with my mom, or swinging my arms restlessly, or spinning around and staring up at the sky. When the game is over, I have to ask my dad about the outcome.
“Did we win?”
So…hockey, I’ve just Googled “hockey playoffs” and then just sort of stared at the screen blankly like a foreigner making sense of a complex schedule at a massive train station. Maybe I can just call and ask someone? Hmm, it’s still pretty early. I am trying to go back into my memory of past Canadian boyfriends…(which is the exact same thing as “dating a hockey fan”). But in reality, while those games were happening, I was pretty much the same as I am at a rugby match–half-watching and daydreaming. And for a non-sports fan to date a sports fan is like a Shark trying to date a Jet, it will never work because for some–sport is everything, it’s like nationalism with different logos.
Trish says: “There’s a game on tonight, you could watch it with Ben… take notes”.
Oh Lord…watch hockey…at home…on the television? Do I actually have to watch hockey to blog about it? Can’t I just blog about what I don’t know? Wouldn’t that be cute? I mean how hard can it be to explain hockey–it’s sticks, pucks and nets, the occasional fight and Pat Benatar‘s “Hit me with your Best Shot“?
Obviously it’s more than that–after all, the whole NHL lockout was a big deal, but bless my little heart, I tried to Google that and more of the blank staring at the screen. But generally I’m getting a “We want more money! We want better contracts! (Who doesn’t?)” and everyone else is like “Go back to work, so I have something to stare at in the pub!” Apparently, everyone was losing out–bars and restaurants with all those big televisions (ladies, you know the ones, where your date insists you take the seat facing away from the TV, and stares at the screen over your shoulder, while only pretending to listen all night)–lottery corporations, beer companies, the teams, the hockey organization, millions upon millions were lost because these men could not work their issues out in the boardroom. (Big fucking surprise there)–They should have sent someone like me in there to be like “Guys, what are we even talking about? ….No seriously, what is this ‘hockey’, and why are we all making such a big deal about it?”
Courtesy of Yowzers.com