I Miss NHL Hockey - A Lament
A Lament for Hockey
The last couple of Saturday nights were tough. They were tougher than I thought they would be. On Saturday nights there is no NHL hockey. Three weeks ago, for the first fall Saturday night that I can remember, I could not tune into the game. There was no tuning into Coach’s Corner to watch the Ron and Don show. We all know that Don surely ain’t the greatest Canadian, but you gotta love the way that he talks for all of us, and the way that Ron can turn a phrase, and trip-up ole Don. Having no hockey, Don nor Ron made me realize how much I need “our game.”
A Shared Comfort Blanket
Self-admittedly, I am not an avid devotee HNICer watching both games of the double-header every Saturday night nor the triple-header on hockey day in Canada. Most Saturdays I do not even watch a full three periods, unless my Canucks are playing, which is usually on the late game. Friends have called me a homer, and not a real fan of the game, but regardless, I now realize that I found comfort in knowing that I could put on the game, or any NHL game, if I wanted.
Hockey for millions of Canadian men is our shared comfort blanket. Even if we don't use it, we know that it is there. NHL hockey is the trademark, brand and logo for Canadian men. Without it we are just not the same. Something goes amiss in our daily lives.
My neighbour John suggested that we go and watch the Mooseheads of the QMJHL, but we both know that it just ain’t the same. We drank beer and yelled at the screen as Canada won the world cup of hockey. But all the while we shared an awkward feeling knowing that this would be the last real hockey and beer for some time.
Conversational Voids
I know that there is now a vacuum and conversational void in the morning when my neighbour, on the other side, and I bump into each other running out the door to work. I can no longer hassle David about his losing Chicago Black Hawks, and he can’t retort about the Canuck’s peaking too early in the season, again.
When at work there is a silence during morning coffees. We know that in the past this was the airtime dedicated to hockey talk. Chatting about “Making the Cut” just ain’t the same. We just can’t forget that the guys on “Making the Cut”, god bless them, are vying to win non-existent spots at a non-existent NHL training camps.
During my weekly breakfast at Cosy’s Restaurant, while I ate the “four-by-four” breakfast of four pieces of toast, four eggs and four sausages and drank too many cups of black coffee, we the regulars bantered about injuries, and how Joe Thornton just wasn’t living up to the billing. The Cosy’s regulars agonized with Stevie Izerman about his wonky knee, with Mario Lemieux about his aching back, and about Joe Thornton’s shoulder. We have all experienced similar ailments, and know what it means to play injured. What it means to be aging and to be a pro.
Being A Canadian Male and Fantasy Leagues
In addition to providing the comfort of a well warn and warm blanket, NHL hockey provided a shared and understood common bond for us middle-age non-hockey playing men. We do live vicariously through our fantasy teams. Every fall we look forward to getting together and arguing over the rules of how we are going to conduct the fantasy league draft, what happens if a draftee gets injured, whether we have to draft a goalie and the other minutia of fantasy hockey pools – who will be the new rookie sensation, who had an off year, and who is going to have a break-out season.
Once our fantasy league teams were drafted we would become devotees of morning sports updates so to check out the late coming Western Conference results. Though the monies to be won were only minor in the scope of reality, staying in the car in the office parking lot and listening to the radio sports shorts to hear who got assists on all the goals became common practice.
It Matters Not Who Wins
It matters not whether the owners or the players win the lockout. What needs to happen is for the NHL hockey season to open. The boys have to lace on their skates, and start shooting the puck. Baseball and football just don’t cut it – they are not our game. There are millions of Canadian men who need the conversational comfort of our game. We need get on with drafting our players, start counting assists and goals and get back to our fantasy leagues. We need the comfort of watching the game and yapping with one another. Cause I know, that this year my Canucks will win it all.
The last couple of Saturday nights were tough. They were tougher than I thought they would be. On Saturday nights there is no NHL hockey. Three weeks ago, for the first fall Saturday night that I can remember, I could not tune into the game. There was no tuning into Coach’s Corner to watch the Ron and Don show. We all know that Don surely ain’t the greatest Canadian, but you gotta love the way that he talks for all of us, and the way that Ron can turn a phrase, and trip-up ole Don. Having no hockey, Don nor Ron made me realize how much I need “our game.”
A Shared Comfort Blanket
Self-admittedly, I am not an avid devotee HNICer watching both games of the double-header every Saturday night nor the triple-header on hockey day in Canada. Most Saturdays I do not even watch a full three periods, unless my Canucks are playing, which is usually on the late game. Friends have called me a homer, and not a real fan of the game, but regardless, I now realize that I found comfort in knowing that I could put on the game, or any NHL game, if I wanted.
Hockey for millions of Canadian men is our shared comfort blanket. Even if we don't use it, we know that it is there. NHL hockey is the trademark, brand and logo for Canadian men. Without it we are just not the same. Something goes amiss in our daily lives.
My neighbour John suggested that we go and watch the Mooseheads of the QMJHL, but we both know that it just ain’t the same. We drank beer and yelled at the screen as Canada won the world cup of hockey. But all the while we shared an awkward feeling knowing that this would be the last real hockey and beer for some time.
Conversational Voids
I know that there is now a vacuum and conversational void in the morning when my neighbour, on the other side, and I bump into each other running out the door to work. I can no longer hassle David about his losing Chicago Black Hawks, and he can’t retort about the Canuck’s peaking too early in the season, again.
When at work there is a silence during morning coffees. We know that in the past this was the airtime dedicated to hockey talk. Chatting about “Making the Cut” just ain’t the same. We just can’t forget that the guys on “Making the Cut”, god bless them, are vying to win non-existent spots at a non-existent NHL training camps.
During my weekly breakfast at Cosy’s Restaurant, while I ate the “four-by-four” breakfast of four pieces of toast, four eggs and four sausages and drank too many cups of black coffee, we the regulars bantered about injuries, and how Joe Thornton just wasn’t living up to the billing. The Cosy’s regulars agonized with Stevie Izerman about his wonky knee, with Mario Lemieux about his aching back, and about Joe Thornton’s shoulder. We have all experienced similar ailments, and know what it means to play injured. What it means to be aging and to be a pro.
Being A Canadian Male and Fantasy Leagues
In addition to providing the comfort of a well warn and warm blanket, NHL hockey provided a shared and understood common bond for us middle-age non-hockey playing men. We do live vicariously through our fantasy teams. Every fall we look forward to getting together and arguing over the rules of how we are going to conduct the fantasy league draft, what happens if a draftee gets injured, whether we have to draft a goalie and the other minutia of fantasy hockey pools – who will be the new rookie sensation, who had an off year, and who is going to have a break-out season.
Once our fantasy league teams were drafted we would become devotees of morning sports updates so to check out the late coming Western Conference results. Though the monies to be won were only minor in the scope of reality, staying in the car in the office parking lot and listening to the radio sports shorts to hear who got assists on all the goals became common practice.
It Matters Not Who Wins
It matters not whether the owners or the players win the lockout. What needs to happen is for the NHL hockey season to open. The boys have to lace on their skates, and start shooting the puck. Baseball and football just don’t cut it – they are not our game. There are millions of Canadian men who need the conversational comfort of our game. We need get on with drafting our players, start counting assists and goals and get back to our fantasy leagues. We need the comfort of watching the game and yapping with one another. Cause I know, that this year my Canucks will win it all.
posted by Pete at 8:40 PM
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