So, the other day my friends invited me to watch the Penguins play the Canadiens down at the arena. I’m definitely not a sports guy by any stretch of the imagination, but I will happily grace any gathering with my presence if there’s beer involved, and luckily for me, there were plenty of Labatt Blue pounders for me to avail myself of. So I downed about 7 of those bad boys and sat down to watch the game.
Granted, I have absolutely no idea how hockey is played. It’s way too fast and I don’t know who is supposed to do what when they’re in possession of the ball, or puck, or whatever the fuck it’s called. So there I am, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing, when I hear that all-too familiar lightning/distortion combination of Slayer’s “Raining Blood” starting on the PA, and I’m struck with a revelation that I can only partially ascribe to the gallon of beer sloshing around in my stomach.
Hockey is moshing. That’s all it is. All of these professional “athletes” who have dedicated their entire lives to the craft of pushing their puck around with a stick are doing what? That’s right. They’re just rushing around in a circle, slamming into one another while metal plays. What the hell do you think I’m doing in the mosh pit while I’m seeing Carcass down at Stage AE? The exact same fucking thing, only I wasn’t stupid enough to waste years of my life learning how to do it. Maybe I’m just naturally talented, I dunno, but I’m obviously performing the very feat that these guys are getting paid millions of dollars to do. Seriously, all I would need to do is learn how to skate and try to keep vomiting to a minimum, and I’d basically be Sidney Crosby.
So think about this the next time you decide to shell out $140 to see what I’ve spent $30 to do at a death metal concert. And I don’t even need to don 25 pounds of safety gear to do it. Let this missive serve as a message to all NHL players that what they’re doing is no more impressive than what your average metalhead does at a show after he’s had too much to drink and forgotten that he’s no longer 17 years old. In the meantime, they’d better make way and let me out on that ice, because I’m officially shitfaced and ready to thump some skulls.
