IT'S ALL ABOUT HOCKEY

I admit it. I am one of those people who become a roaring, excited, jumping fool when the NHL is blaring from the TV. It is, in fact, about the only time the set is turned on in my house.

Because of my work hours, I usually catch the first period of the weekday games on the car radio. Anyone stuck in traffic beside me on the auto route can probably hear the gleeful “Whoop-whoop-whoop!!!”, windows closed or not, when my team scores; or the heartfelt, loud, obnoxious swearing (in the typical Quebecois male fashion) if my team screws up. Hockey, and the love for it, turns me into a different person. It’s the Jekyll & Hyde syndrome. When the Canadiens win, I float around in pleasant euphoria until the next game. If they lose, I tend to be grumpy until the sting of defeat wears off.

Hockey has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. As a child I would strap on a pair of second-hand, 2-sizes-too-large boy’s skates (over many layers of socks) and join the lads on the bumpy river ice for a pick-up game. If there were not enough real hockey sticks to go around, we would fashion substitutes with broken tree branches, use a suitable piece of ice as a puck, and play until it was too dark to see.

In my teen years, I spent hours and hours shivering beside outdoor rinks or in arenas, cheering on boyfriends (or potential crushes) night after night during the long winter months.

In spite of being teased and/or frowned upon by the male population at the time, the first female hockey league in our area was instigated by myself and a couple of like-minded friends. Most of us were now young, married ladies and, at the beginning, I believe our husbands tolerated our activity only because they were afraid of what they wouldn’t ‘get’ if they didn’t, LOL!

I played in that league for 15 years, and still have close buddies who were first introduced through the various teams. I also have enemies; we did the full play, and fights did happen. Some ladies, unfortunately, couldn’t leave hard feelings on the ice.

I can remember one fight in particular, mostly because of the referee. He was an acquaintance of ours, and well aware of my husband’s renown jealousy. I was playing defense and had frustrated the scoring attempts of our opponents once too many, I guess, because their star winger took a swing at me with her stick. This resulted in the gloves coming off and a tussle. Of course we ignored the shrill, repeated whistles from the officials – it was too far gone for that. I finally managed to get her down and was on top of her, both of us still swinging the best we could. The ref is supposed to separate us once we hit the ice, and he made a couple of useless attempts to grab our arms before realizing that he would have to bodily pick me up to get me off her. He also knew that my husband was standing watching the game and, not wanting to get into trouble, turned and yelled frantically “Where am I supposed to grab her??” Hilarious!! He ended up yanking me off by pulling on my ankles while one of the linesmen held the other player down by her shoulders. That ref is now a business partner of mine, and we still laugh about the event whenever it comes up in conversation.

Canada’s Olympic teams, the men, but especially the women, did us proud this year. And if the girls celebrated a little too wildly for the taste of the stuffed shirts, too bad! The energy and heart that goes into such a fast paced game merits the reward of letting ‘it all hang out’ when you win. If I’d have been there, you can be sure I’d be right in the middle of it – and I doubt very much that I would apologize for it either.

Come to think of it, maybe that’s why the lady is one of those who look the other way whenever we meet, even after all this time. Oops.

My Canadiens won Thursday night, and I’m looking forward to watching them do the same tonight, so if my SMILE got any bigger it would become an outright giggle!! Sending it your way………..

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.