It’s floating…right there! Hit it already!
I am a fan of most mainstream sports, but the worst kind of hockey fan. OK, I’m the second worst. The absolute worst type of “sports fan” is the bastard that hoards over his (her? really?) fantasy team like a liege lord, moving them in and out of lineups and cackling like the Crypt Keeper on “X”. He pours over box scores and stat sheets, looking for any little advantage that will give him the edge (i.e., bragging rights, enlarged genitalia). This fan wouldn’t know a flee flicker if the pass hit him in the crotch at the Rose Bowl. Actually, I think it’s called the “Taco Bell 4th Meal Run for the Border Rose Guaca-bowl-e”, but I digress.
The second worst fan is casual, crossing paths with enthusiasm when he or she sees fit. So that’s the type of Pittsburgh Penguins fan I am. Hardcore hockey fans, feel free to hurl an octopus at me. The Steelers are my first sports love, and I latched onto them as a wee tyke, watching them beat the Rams in SBXIV. To make a long story short, I also latched onto “Super” Mario Lemieux a few years later. So, my lackadaisical romance with Pittsburgh pro hockey was born.
Flash forward, 20-odd years later, and I can barely watch the drama unfold. I can not think of a more intense sport - the polar opposite of soccer. It is very stressful, especially in a playoff OT situation where a stray puck sends your asses home. I was watching the Rangers and Penguins play the other night, and I was literally screaming at the screen - “Get the $!!%&*!! puck! It’s right there!” - as the disc floated precariously in front of Pitt’s goalie after a save, seemingly for minutes.
Also, let me give the proper respect to the NHL on NBC announcer - I think it is this guy. He is a lot like a cross between Joel Olsteen and that fast-talking weasel in the old FedEx commercials. He narrated the violent, nail-biting proceedings relentlessly, somehow calling out players without seeing jersey names or numbers. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have had a clue where the puck was located most of the time. How DID he see that shot ricochet off the top of the net, behind the goalie? Is he supernatural? Is he reading my mind right now? I’ll think happy thoughts, just in case he can turn me into a jack-in-the-box.
So, have I gone soft? I’m not sure. Maybe I’m used to the NBA, where true crunch-time only happens every couple of games. Baseball can lull you to sleep if you don’t understand the nuances. Football is organized chaos, and can be ugly as hell more often than not. These sports have their moments. However, none of them actually take players OFF the field and force you to play shorthanded. Watching your team kill crucial penalty minutes while down by one goal is horrifying. What kind of madness is this?!
