The War of Northern Aggression
The War of North Aggression took a strange turn last evening. The Carolina Hurricanes, you see, won the Stanley Cup by beating the Edmonton (Alberta, Canada) Oilers 3-1 in the seventh, and final, game of the NHL (National Hockey League) Championship Series at the RBC (Royal Bank of Canada) Center in Raleigh, North Carolina. In professional ice hockey, I'm told, that's the equivalent of the Super Bowl and the World Series all rolled into one.
Now, folks, I'm a Southern boy and I don't do anything on frozen water. And, you can be fairly sure that none of the Hurricane players are good old boys from North Carolina either. No, most of 'em are either Canadian or Yankees who grew up within spittin' distance of Canada. Hell, even the Zamboni driver is a Connecticut Yankee.
So, here we have a team winning the first major league sports championship in North Carolina history in hockey, the national pastime of Canada.
Not football. Not basketball. But, hockey, a game played on a really slippery surface by guys missing most of their front teeth and using a funny looking golf club to hit a black rubber ball (called a puck) that is flat on two sides into a tiny little soccer net. On the rare occasion the puck thingy (that you cannot see most of the time) actually goes into the net (sometimes you cannot even see that), a fog horn on a really big ship apparently docked somewhere in the building blows and the fans go nuts and throw dead octopi onto the ice. The players are dressed something like football players wearing ice skates and seem to like to bang each other into the glass wall surrounding the frozen pond on which they are playing. However, should a player throw a nice, clean down-field block on another player, the blocker gets sent to the time-out corner for a couple of minutes or until the other team scores a goal and all is forgiven. Strange game, hockey.
I fear this hockey thing has caused more harm in the War of Northern Aggression than everything that little red-headed bastard, Sherman, did on his infamous March to the Sea. This game and this win, you understand, has won the hearts and souls of a whole bunch of Bubbas right here in Carolina.
Isn't it just like them damn Yankees to drag the Canadians into our little disagreement, eh?
That just ain't fightin' fair, I tell you.
Now, folks, I'm a Southern boy and I don't do anything on frozen water. And, you can be fairly sure that none of the Hurricane players are good old boys from North Carolina either. No, most of 'em are either Canadian or Yankees who grew up within spittin' distance of Canada. Hell, even the Zamboni driver is a Connecticut Yankee.
So, here we have a team winning the first major league sports championship in North Carolina history in hockey, the national pastime of Canada.
Not football. Not basketball. But, hockey, a game played on a really slippery surface by guys missing most of their front teeth and using a funny looking golf club to hit a black rubber ball (called a puck) that is flat on two sides into a tiny little soccer net. On the rare occasion the puck thingy (that you cannot see most of the time) actually goes into the net (sometimes you cannot even see that), a fog horn on a really big ship apparently docked somewhere in the building blows and the fans go nuts and throw dead octopi onto the ice. The players are dressed something like football players wearing ice skates and seem to like to bang each other into the glass wall surrounding the frozen pond on which they are playing. However, should a player throw a nice, clean down-field block on another player, the blocker gets sent to the time-out corner for a couple of minutes or until the other team scores a goal and all is forgiven. Strange game, hockey.
I fear this hockey thing has caused more harm in the War of Northern Aggression than everything that little red-headed bastard, Sherman, did on his infamous March to the Sea. This game and this win, you understand, has won the hearts and souls of a whole bunch of Bubbas right here in Carolina.
Isn't it just like them damn Yankees to drag the Canadians into our little disagreement, eh?
That just ain't fightin' fair, I tell you.
If you install a HiDef projector onto the living room ceiling and attach 10 foot screen on the wall, then pay the cable company an extra $5 a month, you can actually SEE that puck .... making the game almost as enjoyable as attending an event. Of course, it is most enjoyable when the entire family plays - often together at scrimmages and drop-ins. While I no longer have the ex-coach's mullet and pay the price each time after four knee surgeries, there is still nothing like the sensation of flying across that smooth sheet of freshly cut ice.
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