Day 25
Today I went to a hockey game...a Canadian hockey game. For a people so devoted to the sport that they would fly to another country and pay thousands of dollars to see their losing NHL team for the 67th time they sure don't give a flying puck about their college players. The arena contained 27 fans, total. But, I did learn a few things about going to see college hockey in this country:
1. They don't fight, enough. The players would shove each other around just a little before being broken up and penalized for "roughing". Had I paid for my ticket I might have tried to get a no- blood-or-teeth-on-ice refund.
2. I am on the borderline and quickly crossing into creepy. There is only a small sliver of time when you can legitimately oogle 19 year old men. I think I'll buy a season ticket to maximize my time. But, I could always aspire to being creepy, it might be dirty but that only means that it has the potential to be a ton of fun. I already plan on being an old woman who squeezes asses of men that could be my grandchildren, might as well get in a little practice.
4. And that's another thing, it's really hard to judge how big a hockey player's ass is. I stared for over an hour trying to imagine how thick the padding was...imagining, tiny little rail-ish men emerging from their gear in the locker room. Envisioning tiny little men in a locker room may just cure me of my addiction to looking at barely legal men, though.
5. There are some tall-ass players. I looked over at our opponents and thought that somehow we'd been sent middle-schoolers to make us look good. Upon consulting a program I found the average height per player to be around 6'6". An oddity until you see one how quickly a giant can snatch a puck from a hobbit-sized player just by skating over to him.
6. I was overjoyed when I read that students could purchase season tickets for $10, but understood why when I tried to buy a coke and they wanted nearly $5 per cup. Tricky, indeed.
7. But, the best part about Canadian high school hockey is the dj. Throughout the game he played a mix including; Usher, Green Day, M.I.A., Rush, and a snarky snippet of Tom Petty. When the Thunderbirds (our team) were up 6 to 1 and the opposing team scored he played only the lyric, "Even the losers get lucky sometimes".
Death March Part 2:
Yesterday I was tricked into an 80 kilometer death march (actually, I have no idea what a kilometer is, but 80 sounds about right). Today I was also duped, but was able to survive as my tiny trainer (fast-paced European) was asking me about what it was like to be/grow up fat. This was an ingenius plot, nothing gets a fat chick moving like telling repressed memories of brutal teasings based on weight/appearance to a pretty, thin woman.
Upon arriving in this country I noticed that every shop had multiple items with either a maple leaf or "Canada" scrawled across them. At first it was cute, but then I thought about it. Do Canadians really think that there will be that many tourists plowing through town, especially ones that fall for that sort of cheesy marketing gimmick (Come on, all of those types vacation in Cancun). But tonight was a special night, I discovered the absolute best part of Canadian culture...a Canadian man sporting a sweatshirt with a maple leaf AND "Canada" stitched into it. The Canadians buy that crap. Hmm...
-Canadian Castaway
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