Confessions of a non-fan
I woke up this morning to a flood of news that is usually reserved for natural disasters or the death of a mega-celebrity: NHL hockey is back. So…this is a good thing, right?
Look, I’m not really a sports person; while I appreciate that many of you are super excited about watching the Canucks play this spring, I can’t help but feel left out because “hockey being back” brings me about as much excitement as a trip to the gynecologist.
I know that this is Vancouver and that loving hockey (or at least, like, understanding the basic rules of it) is supposed to be something of a given. But, I don’t. To me, professional hockey is a confusing thing that rich people do to get richer. It’s expensive to go to the games, it’s super time-consuming to try to thoroughly follow, and it’s has been the catalyst of two highly destructive riots in our city within my lifetime (I know you can’t blame the game for the actions of rioters, but losing hockey games does seem to spark something weird in Vancouver, no?).
Don’t hate me, Vancouver! Maybe it’s my brother’s fault: I can’t tell you how many hours of my childhood were spent watching his minor hockey practices and games—but I can tell you that I now have a physical aversion to the aroma of sweaty hockey pads and the sight of an ice rink makes me want to curl into the fetal position to fend off memories of the (literally!) bone-chilling boredom and cold.
In any case, while the NHL may not be my cup of tea, I get that if you’re a fan, this is a happy time for you, and I wish you the best. While I might not watch or understand the game, I do appreciate that some sticks and pucks and ice have the ability to magically bring all sorts of people together under the common goal of, well, goals. So, when the games start, I’ll join ya’ll at the bar—just know that I’ll only be there for the beer and socializing. Save your stats for the next girl.
Editor in Chief