So, Win Some, Loose Some. June 9th 2024.
Hockey makes toothless scared men desirable. And if you think a hockey stars presence would only make women weak kneed, well I guarantee you see many a rough tough hombre act like a silly school girl in the presence of the Great One, the Next one, Sid the Kid, or the Legend.
Of course being a hockey star at just about any level leaves us two left footed, uncoordinated, ADHD, rubber tummied, couch potatoes feeling like those dudes {got it all!). But there is a fair amount of pressure on those with the gift. From the time they lace up parents, coaches, neighbours, team mates and team mates parents make no bones about their desire to see them play the game beautifully, And if they can't be beautiful, then they can certainly learn to interrupt the beautiful game of those who can.
You can make millions with less talent by being the guy who isn't scared to use the stick on a player rather than a puck, or those who can excel in the barbaric spectacle of bare knuckle fighting. Those who love hockey here in my home and native land are convinced that fighting is an integral part of the sport. Although hockey is more international now than it has ever been, and although we are seeing other countries provide more and more elite players to our sport in the holiest of leagues, we will never accept that hockey can survive without the allowance of two large men punching each others helmeted heads repeatedly.
Now you would think that once the all Canadian boy realized he wasn't going to be included in the less than one percent of those who make the big time that the importance of the game would somewhat diminish. Well, I have seen bench clearing brawls in every level from Bantam, to Police tournaments, to Beer leagues, to Church leagues. You don't mess with hockey......at any level. Cause Hockey is ours. Ours even if the Russians, Chezs, Fins, Swedes, and especially the Americans are growing more proficient every year. One of the most recent starts in the great Canadian sport was born and reared in Arizona. (And I am willing to bet he doesn't have a back yard rink in his story ala Gretzky or the Dryden brothers.)
The Stanley Cup (the Holy Grail of hockey) has not been won by a Canadian based team for a very long time. Thirty One years to be exact. A resounding 41% of the National Hockey League are men of Canadian origin. In fact a goodly number of American players are sons of Canadian hockey players who played their careers in America. But still, hoisting the cup in a Canadian city is something the majority of us long to see. The idea of hockey has the ability to unify our sparsely populated massive country. Even the most committed western separatist would think twice about not being part of the Canadian National Hockey team.
So here we are, in the Stanley Cup final, and for the first time in a very long time my team is there. With the two best players in the world. And it is exciting. I was never an athlete. But I am a Canadian. I grew up in a world where Hockey was King. And although I spent a few years as a kid riding the pine, I still believe. I believe in hockey and it's powers. I believe in hockey and its superstitions. And because I believe, I am not sure I can watch the Stanley Cup final. I am scared I am a jinx. I got in late last night and turned on the set just in time to see Florida score a second goal. I feel I have to do my part.
So you win some and you loose some..... but my team is there and they are competitive. And they have the two best players in the world, even if one is German. But they represent Canada. And it is after all, hockey. GO OILERS!!!!!!!
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