A Hockey Contrarian
This post was written by one of the journalists at WorkingShirt.com, an online magazine for commentary, news and entertainment, who also happens to be a DailyFaceoff.com fan.
A hockey contrarian? What the hell? Contrarian: con·trar·i·an: – noun – a person who takes an opposing view, esp. one who rejects the majority opinion.
DailyFaceoff.com is a site for hockey lovers: the fans of hockey our national pastime. I guess you could have called me a hockey contrarian once upon a time.
Let me tell you the story of how my view on hockey changed:
I used to hate hockey. For all my life. In the days of one TV set per household, it might have even been a black and white, I was constantly fighting with my brothers over who got to watch what on TV. I have three brothers so you can imagine there were a lot of vicious battles over who got to watch what. The result of those battles I took very seriously and they had a lasting effect on me. I was almost scarred for life with those wars with my brothers based on who got to watch what on the TV. When Canada played against Russia, my whole school got the afternoon off from regular classes to watch hockey on the TV (probably also black and white) at school. I couldn’t care less and secretly hoped Russia would win – that’s how mad I was. Mad enough to be a traitor to my fellow countrymen.
As a young woman, living in Calgary, I had two girlfriends whose favorite pastime was hanging out in the bars where the Calgary Flames used to hang… as they were hoping to hook up with one or two from the team. I didn’t know it then, but hooking up with a hockey player could have been a good thing. Missed opportunity.
The years passed and my hatred of hockey as a hockey contrarian seemed to fade. Didn’t matter much to me anymore until I had my first child, a little baby boy of course. By the way, are you familiar with baby jogger stroller? It’s very helpful in maintaining a healthy exercise routine as you take care of your baby. For more info, read full review here storknet.com. When he was five years old, he wanted to join a hockey team. In the winter, we went to a winter carnival in Quebec and watched some young teenagers playing hockey. I was so impressed with the hockey skills of these boys who skated so strongly on their skates, whipping the puck here and there, wherever they wanted it to go – that’s quite a skill.
I tried to sign my son up but realized the deadline for signing up was three days earlier leaving me to deliver the bad news. He collapsed on the floor in the biggest collection of of agonies and cries. It broke my heart to see my son crying because he could not get onto a hockey team. To try and alleviate the problem, I comforted him and promised that I would try my best and make some phone calls. I immediately went to the phone and called the hockey coach. Luck was with us; my son would be allowed to join the hockey team. He was so happy. His joy was genuine.
Over the next five years, I watched my son play goalie for his hockey team year after year. I watched my son with his oversized uniform play the goalie for his team. I drove him to hockey once a week and enjoyed the thrill of hockey. Watching these little tykes shuffling on the ice with giant hockey sticks playing the game I used to hate. I started to love hockey, I loved to watch my little boy play the game. So much so that I went from a hockey contrarian to what I am today, a mother who loves the thrill of hockey… by watching her son play the game.
