I don't remember the specific day I lost the love for hockey, but it had to be right around the time I graduated from high school, because despite the fact I attended one of the premier Division I hockey schools in the country, I never went to a single game during my five years there. Regardless, after Zach Parise scored with 25 seconds left, I was instantly brimming with school pride, not to mention name-dropping and lying like a mother fucker. I was working at the golf course (kept that as my weekend job, fyi) and the pro shop was semi-full of members and KU golfers who were watching the third period along with me. As soon as Parise buried that goal, I started throwing around a lot of "Yeah, that guy lived on my floor in the dorms freshman year, he's a pretty good guy" (in actuality, I'm not sure he was even a freshman the same year I was, and I've never talked to him in my life) and "My roommate passed out in the shower one night and flooded the whole wing, totally fucked up Parise's room, he was pretty cool about it though" (once again, I have no idea if he lived on our floor or not, all I know is that at least 3 other hockey players did, so in my head I said good enough.) Just totally being that guy. And it worked, everybody was sufficiently impressed. Anyway, kind of a rough ending to the game, but if all hockey games these days are anywhere near this awesome to watch, I might just have to start following it again. At the very least, I'm dusting off NHL 2002 for my PS2 and starting up a season tonight.
>> Friday night was one of "those" nights at Sandbar (anyone who has been there can attest to what that entails) and we ended up getting involved with a bachelorette party. Two things here: I'm ready to anoint myself the Self-Proclaimed World's Best Wingman, especially if we're at Sandbar. If the situation calls for it, I can make magic happen for my buddies almost every time I walk through that door. I'm like Gretzky walking into the Northlands Coliseum.
See, I watched a hockey game yesterday, so now I'm gonna start dropping hockey references all over the place like I'm a real fan.
Secondly, we had a European dude rolling with us on this particular evening, so for the first time in Mighty Ducks fake name history, 'Guy Germaine' was successfully used. You should have seen how excited I was as it was going down. Actually, it's probably better that you didn't.
Don't get me wrong, Guy is still my least favorite Mighty Duck, since he was sticking it to my girl Connie Moreau (looking downright saucy in that Team America warm-up jacket)....nevertheless, it was still extremely exciting to break in a new name, after so many years of Jesse Hall's, Russ Tyler's, Fulton Reed's, Lester Averman's, Dean Portman's, and Julie 'The Cat' Gaffney's.
>> I'm not particularly in a "Canada sucks!" mood from the game yesterday like some people are. I've had too many legendary times in Canada from 2001-2003 to be mad at their country. Plus, I have no personal beef with Canadians in general; as Muhammad Ali said when he refused to go to Vietnam, "I ain't got no quarrel with them viet cong." But the song from South Park that I stole the title of this post from is still pretty funny.
>> It is officially March, the most exciting month of the year. Get pysched. Back when we were living at Culligan, last night was the night every year that I waited until about 3 a.m. to bring out the Dick Vitale life-sized cutout and put him in the living room. Like parents pretending to be Santa Claus for their children, it was so worth it the next morning when I got to see the pure joy on the roommates' faces. One year when Horp was sleeping on the couch, I was a little bit too loud setting up Dickie V, and he slowly opened one eye while nestled underneath his blankey...."Santa? Is that you?"
"No, no, son, it's just me. Go back to bed now, you've got a big day ahead of you tomorrow." And I always made sure to finish the cookies and milk.
Happy March.
