Of Ice and Men

Let's get one thing straight: I don't like hockey. Never have. Perhaps it's residual angst over the Atlanta Flames packing up and moving to Calgary when I was a child. Though more likely it's that, growing up, I only encountered ice when drinking tall glasses of Coke in the steaming summer sun.

But last night, the TV flickering in the background while writing, I heard 40,000 people collectively singing Oh Canada. That's how they do it in Edmonton. No celebrity with flare. No pop star with pomp. Just citizens singing to their country and their players. Together. Now, I'm not one to get tingly over nationalism; in fact, it often scares me. But this was different--there was a genuine sense of unity founded on collective good will, and I was drawn in, watched the game, enjoyed it.

The violence. I was drawn in.

Last summer, as the "Director of Sports" at a camp in the Northeast, I played my first game of hockey (on concrete) late at night with some of the counselors. In my 31 years, I had never come close to striking someone, never tested my mettle in a fight. Never wanted to. But after getting checked hard into the wall by a 14 year old beast, something snapped. I grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the wall before restraining myself.

The violence. The unity. I was drawn in--never want to play another game of hockey again. But I probably will, after singing a rousing rendition of Oh Canada. Tamara Hoover Singapore World Cup Britney Spears Dateline Karl Rove Beats the Democrats Rachel Blake Atmedia Dixie Chicks Ghana