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Me Like Hockey

The Olympic gold medal hockey game Sunday may have converted a lot of casual watchers into fans. It was everything you could want in a good hockey game. And even though the USA didn’t take the gold, I’m sure it will probably get fans interested in the NHL in a way that hasn’t happened since the Miracle on Ice in 1980.

I don’t watch a lot of hockey these days, but when I do, I always enjoy it. This dates back to the early ‘70’s, when I even bought hockey trading cards. Yes, they sell hockey trading cards. And when I was a kid, I would regularly pony up a dime at the Edgerton Ben Franklin store for a package of Topps hockey cards, much as I did for basketball, football and baseball. I still have all of them, too, and I own some good ones – Gordie Howe, Bobby Hull, Bobby Orr, Phil Esposito, Henri Richard – all of them NHL superstars back in those days. I remember crying when the Chicago Blackhawks lost Game 7 of the Stanley Cup in 1971 to the Montreal Canadiens.

In fact, I even had a slot hockey game (see photo for an example) that I greatly cherished, and quite honestly, wish I still had. The players – all of them identical in appearance except for their uniforms – represented the Detroit Red Wings and the New York Rangers.

I was so into it that I formed my own league and made jerseys that I cut to size and could tape onto the players so that I could play different teams. Oh, and I kept stats, too. I could tell you how many goals Rod Gilbert and Walt Tkaczuk had scored. OK, I was a total geek.

As I got into high school, I kind of forgot about the NHL and pretty much ignored it until the early 2000’s when I watched the Stanley Cup playoffs and got drawn back in. Then the NHL pulled a Bud Selig and cancelled the 2004-05 season due to labor strife, and I lost interest again.

I haven’t gone to a lot of games – I’m embarrassed to admit that I haven’t checked out the Janesville Jets yet – but I’ve seen my share the past few years including the Wisconsin Badgers, Rockford Ice Hogs and Milwaukee Admirals, as well as the long-gone Madison Monsters (whose between-periods entertainment the night I attended was the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders. I only remember this because of the hormone-crazed morons banging the glass during their entire routine).

So Sunday’s Olympic game is hooking me back in, even though I actually missed the third period and the dramatic game-tying goal the Americans scored with 24 seconds left. (My wife was annoyed that I kept checking my BlackBerry for the score.) I did get back home in time to see the entire overtime and Canada’s sudden-death victory. In fact, it’s my fault the Canadians won. About thirty seconds before the game ended, I said to my son, “Boy, Sidney Crosby has been quiet.” Boom, Crosby shoots, he scores.

And I now have a dirty little secret to admit – in my heart, I was cheering for Team Canada to win. Not because I’m some pinko America-hater, but because I just felt like they needed the win more than we did. In Canada, hockey is practically a religion, much like the Packers are in Wisconsin. The USA kicked butt at the Olympics and easily won the medal count. Why not let host Canada end the games with a medal that would do more for their national psyche than it would for ours? This was no team of nasty Commies we were taking on, just a bunch of guys with missing teeth and unpronounceable names.

What I loved about the medal ceremony afterward was that so many of the Canadian players were singing their national anthem with great gusto. They wanted this medal bad, for reasons beyond pride and competition.

One last note: if you’re wondering about the headline of this blog, a Canadian band called the Arrogant Worms does a song with that title. It is a very funny song, especially if you can find the version on an album of theirs called “Semi-Conducted.”