2 Minutes for Slashing

I had the opportunity recently to sit in on a strange but common phenomenon. My roommate had invited some of his friends over to watch a hockey game. There was scotch and cigars, hollering and sighing, and a general sense of pleasure. Now, I've never really understood sports, sure it's interesting watching overpaid athletes compete with each other. It's just the whole point of sports. What is it? Surely it's far more enjoyable for the athletes than it is for you at home sitting on your ass.

Every now and again I'll catch a game of soccer on television. These I tend to enjoy, mainly due to the lack of commercials and the fact that I can do some other activity for several minutes without missing anything. That's about the extent of my love for professional sports. That being said, what the hell is up with hockey? Take a second to actually think about it. The whole premise is ludicrous. Five players, on ice, skate around and try and fire a small piece of rubber around with a stick. Their objective, a goal that is being blocked by a mongoloid with more padding than the Michelin man. And every now and then, two of these tooth-lacking millionaires decide they're just not having enough fun, so they beat the guts out of each other.

This happened several times while I was watching the television. In every instance that these fights occurred, some of the company watching would display strange behavior. Their testicles would swell, they'd stand up and howl at the television, impressing each other with their displays of manliness. During these events, I was enjoying it far more than the game itself. Beers were opened and things calmed only until one team scored. At one point, one of them asked where I was from. I replied that I was born and raised in Calgary, which was met with a very cold response.
"Huh. Calgary fucking blows!" one said.
"Fuck that place. They're all assholes there. Fuckin' Calgary."
All I could do was shrug and ponder if the city which I grew up in had any measure for how much of a dick I may or may not be. I did not even know these people and already they had passed some form of judgment on me. Suffice to say, I kept quiet for the remainder of the evening so as not to upset the apple cart.

Apparently in Canada, our regional differences are heightened by this game of hockey. I realized that the argument 'my city's team is better than your city's team' is a statement that can never be answered. Perhaps hockey fans just need something, anything, to make themselves feel superior to some unseen group. What's sad about it is that it hinges on a game so silly. Sure, people take some of the most bizarre activities seriously, but perhaps just by being Canadian, we are expected by our peers to rabidly worship at the altar of the puck. Before each game, we are expected to sing the national anthem. This is insane! Of course you realize that you're not cheering for a city or a country, right? You're cheering for a corporation, a business entity, if you will. It would be like Exxon expecting you to stand up and shed a patriotic tear every time somebody puts gas in their tank.

Look- it's a game. It's supposed to be fun, not a religion. When it becomes anything more than that, you know you're being fooled.