Hockey Night
Some food to be avoided.
Tanked topped exercisers talking from beaches
Tell us through TV’s to drink water, eat vegetables
Avoid fast food.
We pull into the parking lot.
To the counter and place an order.
Minutes later a brown and orange bag with waxy cups.
We leave with our fast food.
Parked at the lake.
Where young couples may look for romance
Or drug deals could go down.
We munch our burgers and rings, and sip root beer.
Talk is of hockey.
Players back from the bigs or hot shots on the visiting team
Hoping to see a particular goalie.
The lake glistens in front of us, reflecting lights of homes and the yellow moon.
Food clued up.
Last wrappers crumpled and the smell of onions seeps into the car.
A check of the time, a wipe of the mouth, tickets checked.
We walk towards the lake.
Rounding the shore path.
Ducks sputter within the reeds
Discussing duck days before bedding down.
Cars ahead, coming from all around, guiding in by vested runway workers.
Through the doors and tickets torn.
Like thousands of those murmuring ducks
A hum of conversations echos the halls.
Great voices bellow above, “50 50", “Programs”
Make a right, in and out.
The maze of people maneuvered
Reaching stairs, worn smooth with use
Up we go. Up towards the rafters.
At the top, minor league coziness.
Nothing above us only cross beams
Yet still only twelve rows from ice level.
Groups of men hang in the concourse having a last chat... as the zamboni wanders the white.
We reach our section.
The same for years in the middle of the ice.
Two of three seats nuzzled against a post.
A giant Q painted there as a picture on the living room wall.
There we sit in wooden seats.
Those below us the same people as last game.
A mustached man dad sort of knows, his fur coated wife.
A squish faced man with hair cut by way of salad bowl.
And the players enter in home ice white.
Rock music accompanies them.
The visitors arrive seconds later.
Lead by the goaltender I hoped would play.
Vendors come and go.
Intermissions sometimes brings a stroll.
Other times we stay seated, chatting of what we’ve seen.
Sharing our coaching strategies, and who we think doesn’t quite have it tonight.
Final buzzer.
Hoards depart for the parking lot.
We hang there, standing in our row of three, allowing that third to squeeze by.
We watch for the three stars, seeing if the visitor star is good enough to come out and wave.
Back down the worn stairs.
Slipping into the stream to the doors.
Breaking free into the night air
We give our final recap of the game as we reach the path back to the lake.
And back to the shores.
Ducks are more silent now.
Boots scuff along the path
As we continue to critique tonight’s action.
Back to the lot and dad skips ahead.
My door unlocked and he entering his
Just as I reach the car.
A&W greets us in perfume form.
Home.
Mom greets us, asking how it was.
Neither of us share much.
“Good game, yes pretty good”.
This is hockey night with dad.
Every other night of live hockey is compared to these nights.
None, NHL, minor league or junior.
None match those nights.
MONDAY...
— Medical day. Beat up my knee playing ball yesterday and go to the doctor today. Looks like cartilage damage with a strained ACL to go with it. Off for the rest of the week as walking and driving isn’t too easy right now.
— Physio in the afternoon. Start early to get things fixed up as well as can be. Then it’s the rest of the day where I’ll likely be most of the week... on the sofa with the leg elevated.
TUESDAY...
— Laying around with ice and elevated leg... it is feeling better than yesterday but a walk is still not a very easy thing.
WEDNESDAY...
— Boredom setting in. Watch two movies today... Step Brothers is low end Will Ferrell and Observe and Report is weirdly bad Seth Rogen.
— Physio again. The boredom continues and the knee, although improving, still swollen.
THURSDAY...
— Cold and knee do battle to see which can make my day worse. That’s sickness cold... not opposite of warm.
FRIDAY...
— Knee is feeling somewhat better, especially after physio today. Walk, in the brace, with barely a limp now. Still feeling the cold though. Speaking of sickness... why is it that the hardest disease in the world to diagnose is now the flu? You never hear anyone in the news say “he has the flu”. Hockey players are out with “flu like symptoms.” And Cory Haim died this week... and had been also suffering “flu like symptoms prior to it. With all our advances in technology... somewhere along the way... we lost track of what a flu is.
SATURDAY...
— Watched the movie, Swing Vote... much better than I expected. I liked it. Watched Habs vs. Bruins on HD on the French feed. Really need to get CBC Montreal in HD.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Making It Up As I Go Along #406
Topic Overload
Topic overload. Maybe it’s a medical problem?
You’d think in a week where I watched one of the three best hockey games of my life, went to one of the best concerts of my life, had my first trip to an NHL luxury box, and hung out for three days off work with a good friend from home... well you’d think writing would be easy.
But I’ve made two attempts this week and ditched both after only a few paragraphs. Too cliched. Or too obvious. Or just not going anywhere.
For instance, the Olympic gold hockey game. What can you say that hasn’t already been said? Simply asking that question is a bit of a cliche in itself. There are a few things I can say about this game. One, it brought back the return of superstition for me.
All week, for Canadian hockey games, I had a lucky quarter in my pocket. Canada has too many commemorative quarters out there. I’ve often joked that I’ll start collecting those rare quarters with the caribou on the front. But a few weeks ago, I noticed a quarter in my change that struck me. An Olympic men’s hockey quarter with a red maple leaf in the background. At the time I was motioning to drop it in the money box at the office kitchen. It would go as partial payment for my Dr. Pepper. But I did a double take and decided to save this one and use one of the other quarters in my hand. I think an Olympic curling quarter was dropped in it’s stead.
So the quarter slid into my right pants pocket. I specify this because, for some reason, I keep most of my change in my left pocket. I didn’t want this one getting mixed in with the rest.
That night, Canada played it’s first hockey game and soundly defeated Norway. A victory that was expected but I also decided the quarter did well and I kept returning it to my right pocket on each game night after. Come to think of it, I don’t think it was in my pocket for the loss to the US in the round robin. Hmm.
Watching the gold medal game at home, I was without the quarter. All change sat in my kitchen, in little containers. That quarter, remained separate, on the counter next to them.
But before I got it, Canada took a lead against the US. I thought of the quarter but decided to leave well enough alone, and I sat quarterless. That is, until overtime. Once the US tied the game, I got up with disgust and drove the piece deeply into my pocket. Some twelve minutes later, Canada scores the winning goal and the quarter remains in a separate location from all my other change.
The other unique thing about the gold medal hockey game. It marks the first time I can remember when I actually buried my head into my hands. If Fox network was covering the game and I did this in the arena, I’d have gotten on TV as one of those desperate fans Fox sports loves to seek out. Fox goes after the prayer and the despaired. If you’re at a sporting event covered by Fox, either slap your hands together in prayer fashion, or bury your head in your hands... you’ll get on TV.
Well when America tied the hockey game with 24 seconds to play, I did literally bury my head in my hands. I looked like someone in the crash position on an airplane. That’s how good a hockey game it was.
What struck me at the NHL game this week, was how anyone could make it into a luxury box. We actually did have tickets for our box, if asked to produce a ticket, we could have easily.
But the thing is, we were never asked. All we were asked is were we employees or guests of the corporation that owned the box. A nose bleed seat ticket holder need only call themselves a guest and they’re pretty much in the clear. I guess the only possible cross up is if you pick a box that is already going to be full that night. Maybe if the host/hostess sees two extra people in the box, they’ll look for tickets. But I was expecting a much more stringent process for us. I looked at luxury boxes as having some sort of airport security style entrance. Little did I know, all you have to do is open the door and walk on in.
As far as the concert goes, there’s not much to say. Wilco puts on one incredible show, and don’t rip you off at the merchandise table either. The only downside is that the National Arts Centre has a strict 11:00 curfew and the band cut two or three songs off their set list in order to clue things up on time. Curfew sort of detracts from the Rock ‘n’ Roll vibe of a show, but Wilco for sure makes you not worry too much about such things. 26 songs is still well worth the money. And as the reviewer in the Ottawa Sun said, they played more in the encore than Mariah Carey did for her entire show (not that I’d know that first hand... Diva Dits).
So it was a pretty amazing three days last week. Sunday Olympic glory, Monday concert heaven, and Tuesday Luxury Box goodness. And I couldn’t write a thing about any of it.
MONDAY...
— Busy day. Pick up Craig at the airport at noon. Downtown for some lunch and to pick up hockey tickets... home for a bit... then back downtown again for supper and Wilco concert. Wilco are always good but they’re bordering on mind blowing these days. I go a little crazy getting one of their LPs, the opening band’s LP, and two Wilco t-shirts. The prices were good so I figured why not do it.
TUESDAY...
— Hockey day. We do some shopping and running around in the morning before heading to Kanata and getting our hotel room in the late afternoon. Walk to the hockey game (about a twenty minute walk) and eat supper there before hitting the Telus booth. Fun stuff. Free snacks, soft drinks, and beer. Some decent people in there (one from St. John’s... but not General Rick Hillier, who was previously expected). After the game we walk back to the hotel for the night.
WEDNESDAY...
— Check out around 10:30. Brunch at Cora’s and some more shopping. I should say... the shopping is 85% done at sports stores... no shoes for the boys. Supper at the Works and then drive Craig to the airport. Home for some TV and rest after a busy few days.
THURSDAY...
— Idiot in Texas writes of the Vancouver Olympics and says Canada was too patriotic and ignored other nations. The amount of Canadian flags all over bring a likening to the 1936 games that the Nazi’s hosted. Anyone who brings up Hitler or the Nazi’s as a comparison to modern things and events is... AN IDIOT. There’s no other way around it. It goes the same for the IDIOTS who are in America speaking of Obama as a modern day Hitler when it comes to health care reform. Whether you’re American or Canadian or lean to the left or the right... if you try to make any argument about anything and you bring up anything Nazi to prove your point... all you’ve done is prove IDIOCY. Here’s the article... http://www.star-telegram.com/2010/02/28/v-print/2003874/in-these-olympics-canadians-only.html
FRIDAY...
— Not much out of the ordinary today. Feeling spring like though.
SATURDAY...
— Out in the evening with Roz, Terry and Larry. Hit a pub, have a few drinks, a bite to eat and chat it up. A fun night.
Topic overload. Maybe it’s a medical problem?
You’d think in a week where I watched one of the three best hockey games of my life, went to one of the best concerts of my life, had my first trip to an NHL luxury box, and hung out for three days off work with a good friend from home... well you’d think writing would be easy.
But I’ve made two attempts this week and ditched both after only a few paragraphs. Too cliched. Or too obvious. Or just not going anywhere.
For instance, the Olympic gold hockey game. What can you say that hasn’t already been said? Simply asking that question is a bit of a cliche in itself. There are a few things I can say about this game. One, it brought back the return of superstition for me.
All week, for Canadian hockey games, I had a lucky quarter in my pocket. Canada has too many commemorative quarters out there. I’ve often joked that I’ll start collecting those rare quarters with the caribou on the front. But a few weeks ago, I noticed a quarter in my change that struck me. An Olympic men’s hockey quarter with a red maple leaf in the background. At the time I was motioning to drop it in the money box at the office kitchen. It would go as partial payment for my Dr. Pepper. But I did a double take and decided to save this one and use one of the other quarters in my hand. I think an Olympic curling quarter was dropped in it’s stead.
So the quarter slid into my right pants pocket. I specify this because, for some reason, I keep most of my change in my left pocket. I didn’t want this one getting mixed in with the rest.
That night, Canada played it’s first hockey game and soundly defeated Norway. A victory that was expected but I also decided the quarter did well and I kept returning it to my right pocket on each game night after. Come to think of it, I don’t think it was in my pocket for the loss to the US in the round robin. Hmm.
Watching the gold medal game at home, I was without the quarter. All change sat in my kitchen, in little containers. That quarter, remained separate, on the counter next to them.
But before I got it, Canada took a lead against the US. I thought of the quarter but decided to leave well enough alone, and I sat quarterless. That is, until overtime. Once the US tied the game, I got up with disgust and drove the piece deeply into my pocket. Some twelve minutes later, Canada scores the winning goal and the quarter remains in a separate location from all my other change.
The other unique thing about the gold medal hockey game. It marks the first time I can remember when I actually buried my head into my hands. If Fox network was covering the game and I did this in the arena, I’d have gotten on TV as one of those desperate fans Fox sports loves to seek out. Fox goes after the prayer and the despaired. If you’re at a sporting event covered by Fox, either slap your hands together in prayer fashion, or bury your head in your hands... you’ll get on TV.
Well when America tied the hockey game with 24 seconds to play, I did literally bury my head in my hands. I looked like someone in the crash position on an airplane. That’s how good a hockey game it was.
What struck me at the NHL game this week, was how anyone could make it into a luxury box. We actually did have tickets for our box, if asked to produce a ticket, we could have easily.
But the thing is, we were never asked. All we were asked is were we employees or guests of the corporation that owned the box. A nose bleed seat ticket holder need only call themselves a guest and they’re pretty much in the clear. I guess the only possible cross up is if you pick a box that is already going to be full that night. Maybe if the host/hostess sees two extra people in the box, they’ll look for tickets. But I was expecting a much more stringent process for us. I looked at luxury boxes as having some sort of airport security style entrance. Little did I know, all you have to do is open the door and walk on in.
As far as the concert goes, there’s not much to say. Wilco puts on one incredible show, and don’t rip you off at the merchandise table either. The only downside is that the National Arts Centre has a strict 11:00 curfew and the band cut two or three songs off their set list in order to clue things up on time. Curfew sort of detracts from the Rock ‘n’ Roll vibe of a show, but Wilco for sure makes you not worry too much about such things. 26 songs is still well worth the money. And as the reviewer in the Ottawa Sun said, they played more in the encore than Mariah Carey did for her entire show (not that I’d know that first hand... Diva Dits).
So it was a pretty amazing three days last week. Sunday Olympic glory, Monday concert heaven, and Tuesday Luxury Box goodness. And I couldn’t write a thing about any of it.
MONDAY...
— Busy day. Pick up Craig at the airport at noon. Downtown for some lunch and to pick up hockey tickets... home for a bit... then back downtown again for supper and Wilco concert. Wilco are always good but they’re bordering on mind blowing these days. I go a little crazy getting one of their LPs, the opening band’s LP, and two Wilco t-shirts. The prices were good so I figured why not do it.
TUESDAY...
— Hockey day. We do some shopping and running around in the morning before heading to Kanata and getting our hotel room in the late afternoon. Walk to the hockey game (about a twenty minute walk) and eat supper there before hitting the Telus booth. Fun stuff. Free snacks, soft drinks, and beer. Some decent people in there (one from St. John’s... but not General Rick Hillier, who was previously expected). After the game we walk back to the hotel for the night.
WEDNESDAY...
— Check out around 10:30. Brunch at Cora’s and some more shopping. I should say... the shopping is 85% done at sports stores... no shoes for the boys. Supper at the Works and then drive Craig to the airport. Home for some TV and rest after a busy few days.
THURSDAY...
— Idiot in Texas writes of the Vancouver Olympics and says Canada was too patriotic and ignored other nations. The amount of Canadian flags all over bring a likening to the 1936 games that the Nazi’s hosted. Anyone who brings up Hitler or the Nazi’s as a comparison to modern things and events is... AN IDIOT. There’s no other way around it. It goes the same for the IDIOTS who are in America speaking of Obama as a modern day Hitler when it comes to health care reform. Whether you’re American or Canadian or lean to the left or the right... if you try to make any argument about anything and you bring up anything Nazi to prove your point... all you’ve done is prove IDIOCY. Here’s the article... http://www.star-telegram.com/2010/02/28/v-print/2003874/in-these-olympics-canadians-only.html
FRIDAY...
— Not much out of the ordinary today. Feeling spring like though.
SATURDAY...
— Out in the evening with Roz, Terry and Larry. Hit a pub, have a few drinks, a bite to eat and chat it up. A fun night.
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