I've got all of my teeth, my hair is short, and I don't say "eh." I don't skate too well and I haven't been in a fight since fifth grade. I've only seen Mighty Ducks four times. And despite all of that, there is a hockey player inside of me just waiting to burst out and finally figure out which channel is Versus.
Hockey is back, baby! I might be a little late to the train, but there are now certainly four major sports on the American landscape. Memo to soccer and NASCAR: you had your chance and you blew it.
It has crept up on us, but it's hockey playoff time. And for anyone who knows what USA 4, USSR 3 means, it's time to unleash the beast. But in case you hadn't already figured it out: Wake up and smell the Canadian bacon, because playoff hockey rocks!
The league has marketable young stars with insane amounts of talent. There are great teams locked in epic playoff battles, and the NHL is a league full of the gritty, hard-hat lunch-pail guys that the American public loves.
Hockey players leave it all on the ice, or in the ice, because after games they must be as sore as my wallet post-Ivies. And that's why hockey is cool: you can't go half-speed, you can't cruise. You've got to give it your all if you play hockey, or you'll get crushed.
Bruins-Habs (don't ask me why they call the Montreal Canadiens the "Habs," I'm just a bandwagon fan) has historically been one of the great rivalries in professional sports.
The intra-Pennsylvania derby series between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia has more bad blood than a tea party with the Montagues and the Capulets. And the Sharks-Ducks Western Conference match-up should be as entertaining as an actual shark eating an actual duck.
Hockey has always been fast-paced, tough, and dramatic. It has always had passionate fans, at least north of the border, and great rivalries. The problem with hockey was never a problem with actual hockey, it was with the way the game was packaged.
First they tried to stifle fighting. Since this is America, that backfired. Then they tried to jam hockey down our throats because the networks wanted more sports programming. Since this is America, that backfired. And finally, they decided that nobody was making enough money so they would just deprive us for a year and we'd finally wake up and realize how much we missed hockey. And since this isn't Canada, it backfired.
During my senior year of high school the NHL canceled its season because greedy people couldn't figure out a way to be slightly less greedy. This, of course, turned the casual American sports fan off of hockey.
That was me. But that was then and this is now. I may not be a shopaholic, an alcoholic, a drug addict or a criminal, but I do have a confession to make: I'm officially a bandwagon jumper. I used to be a Bruins fan and now I'm back from my sabbatical.
As a bandwagon fan I'm the lowest of the low, only a few rungs up from perverts, drunkards, and reality television "stars."
But I've come to terms with my poor life choice and I know that admitting is the first step to recovery. And don't worry, they don't make pink Bruins hats. Otherwise I'd have to buy one.
Of course, as a homer and a fan for all of the last three hours, I'm making my highly educated NHL playoff prediction: Bruins over Sharks in the finals. Lord Stanley, welcome back to Beantown. While the B's might not bring home the Cup, I can predict with certainty that hockey will only grow in the future. Finally, all is right in a world with four major sports.
So, pop open a Labatt Blue and settle in for passion on ice. You won't regret it, unless you're from San Jose.