Game 1 of the NBA Finals
Game 4 of the Stanley Cup Finals
For those of you who knew me in high school, you may remember that professional basketball was very important to me. And as far as the actual sport goes, I still enjoy watching a basketball game every now and then. I watched the end of Game 2 of the Eastern Conference Finals and marveled at LeBron's Jordanesque ability to finish a big game. I watched the Cavs lose Game 4 in overtime and worried that neither team looked great for the Finals. I will still root for any team that plays against the Lakers, and I have a soft, nostalgic spot in my heart for the Utah Jazz, whose bittersweet title runs in the 96-97 and 97-98 seasons sparked early conversations with men about sports, which mostly involved me defending the honor of Karl Malone ("I know he just missed three key free throw shots, and I realize that he can't put together a coherent sentence to save his life, but look how big his shoulders are.").
In some ways, I think the reason I do not watch basketball anymore is because I care too much about it, and I get irrationally upset when my team loses, or when the Lakers win. Possibly I stopped watching because I believe that the NBA has become an arena in which, too often, the good guys lose. You could argue, though, that the real reason I have stopped following basketball is that I am too cheap to pay for cable TV, and I miss most of the regular season games as a result, as well as highlights and recaps on ESPN.
At any rate, I do not follow the NBA anymore, and I steer clear of conversations with men about sports in general because I have discovered that there is a reason why men do not pay as much attention to relationships as women do: their brain space is taken up with stats on their favorite sports teams from the most recent game to before they were born. The energy I put into dissecting what a guy means when he says, "We should do this again some time," he is using to put together scouting reports and post-game wrap up on his team, just in case, at some future juncture, the coaching staff is hit by lightning, and he is asked to take over, or ESPN Gameday knocks on his door and asks him to do color commentary. So, anyway, I typically find myself way out of my league when I talk to guys about sports.
Which leads me into the subject of this post: why I love hockey. The first reason that comes to mind is that I don't get intimidated talking to men about hockey because there are very few men down here in Texas who know more about it than I do.
I started watching hockey when I was in high school. To be completely honest, it started because of a guy. I had a friend in high school named Mike, who was completely obsessed with four things: Star Wars, the Detroit RedWings, Dave Matthews Band, and a girl he dated off-and-on our entire high school career. I like Star Wars and Dave Matthews, and I am Facebook friends with the ex-girlfriend, but hockey is the most important thing I took away from my friendship with Mike. During hockey season, it was all he could ever talk about, so I learned quickly to talk about hockey on, at least, a surface level.
My interest in hockey has ebbed and flowed over the years. The NHL went on strike for awhile, and that was a bummer. On my mission, I got to go to two hockey games of investigators. After my mission, the NHL went on strike again, but I discovered the Provo IceCats, who were officially adopted as a BYU club team in 2007. The hockey itself wasn't that great, but I have some great memories associated with it. When I moved to Lubbock, I became very interested in Texas Tech's team, until, for reasons that don't make a whole lot of sense to me, they ceased to exist.
This year was a landmark year in my career as a hockey fan because I finally made it to an NHL game in Vancouver, where real hockey fans live. My team lost, but it was only slightly less glorious.
So, tonight, I bribed Stephanie to let me watch Game 4 at her apartment. The RedWings lost decidedly to the Penguins, but the game got me thinking about what I love about hockey:
-I feel like hockey is one of the few sports in which athletes are still competing for the love of the game. This is especially true of college hockey. Who's watching college hockey? Not me. I don't have cable.
-While serious hockey fans can come up with stereotypes for defensemen, goalies, wingers, etc., hockey players have a few things in common:
-They love what they do.
-They enjoy taunting one another.
-If you stand in their way, there is no force powerful enough-not referees' bodies, not threats of penalties, not the embarrassment factor-to keep them from coming after you.
Stephanie continues to be puzzled that hockey players competing for the championship need no better reason to fight than, "Because he got in my face." In hockey, that's enough.
-I think the penalty box is one of my favorite features of a hockey game. I seen entire lineups sitting in the box at the same time. I once heard about two brothers who were both in the box at the same time for fighting, and dedicated the penalty to their mother, who happened to be there in the stands. It was designed to be an aversive experience, but, for some players, it's a chance for them to be on display. That whole mentality is very appealing to me.
-A mullet is a completely acceptable hairstyle in hockey. I am not talking Billy Ray Cyrus circa "Achy Breaky Heart". That would be ridiculous. I'm thinking more Dave Coulier on Full House. Also known as the Canadian Passport
-You can enjoy hockey with only a basic understanding of what is going on. Like me.
-It is a great yardstick by which to measure guys. I have discovered there are levels of hockey awareness in men. And, yes, these levels are all based on actual men that I have known.
Level 1: Will not go to a hockey game because he finds it too violent. I have trouble believing it could work with a guy like this.
Level 2: Wants to go to a hockey game, but, halfway through the first period, asks what a power play is. This guy is well-intentioned, but he gets mocked mercilessly by me. If I can mock him to his face, it could still work.
Level 3: Is not as well-versed in hockey as in other sports, but has some understanding of strategy and an awareness of NHL history. He seems like he would be the ideal level of hockey fan for me, as long as his knowledge of hockey does not exceed mine. That would make me look foolish, as I proclaim to be a hockey expert, but I am obviously not.
Level 4: Plays hockey. The fact that he plays hockey is really cool, but also means that this guy comes with his own set of troubles that I should probably stay away from.
So, in conclusion, hockey is wonderful, the NBA makes me sad, and my life is clearly very uneventful right now. I am going to Washington D.C. this week, so, hopefully, I will at least have some good pictures.
