Of Devils, Cups, And Canada

By Author: Aaron Spetner
Total Articles: 14
Comment this article

The Stanley Cup is the most coveted prize in hockey. This details the excitement involved.
EAST RUTHERFORD, NJ (Spetnik.com) - This week I did something I have wanted to do for a long time. No, I did not launch my own nuclear cruise missile at Canada. That, sadly, is still an untouched item on my list. I had better get working on it, though, as Canadian arrogance has been on an uprise ever since they convinced everybody that they invented hockey. Yes, you heard me right. I do not believe Canadians invented hockey. There is no way I would allow my favorite sport to be invented by Canadians. Several important aspects of the game may be rooted in Canadian heritage (such as missing teeth and playing Oh Canada when a Canadian team is involved), but this is clearly an American sport. And it makes sense too. Think about it. The point of hockey is to take control of the puck and then launch it at speeds upwards of one hundred miles per hour at a fellow trying to protect a tiny little shelter. And what do hockey players do if an opposing player has the puck? That's right. They smash him into the boards. Don't tell me that this ...
... does not sound American. This is the way we Americans work. Anyway, I was going to tell you about the exciting thing I did this week. In fact, I really am still on topic. This past Monday, a friend and I obtained tickets to the seventh game of the Stanley Cup Finals, played between the New Jersey Devils and the Mighty Ducks of Anaheim (I guess for ducks they are pretty mighty, but for hockey players well, put it this way: They lost). For those of you unfamiliar with this wonderful American sport, the Stanley Cup Finals is the last round of the National Hockey League playoffs, where the winning team is temporarily awarded a giant silver cup which each player must immediately lift over his head in order to avoid forfeiting the cup to a Canadian baseball team. Although most people believe the point of the finals is to actually win the cup, the real reason is much more profound. The main incentive in the NHL playoffs is to keep a Canadian team from winning the Stanley Cup. This is crucial. Should a Canadian team win the cup, the spirit of hockey would be destroyed. But surprisingly, this article is not about how I hate Canada. It is about how I no longer work for the Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce (CIBC). Thank goodness. I now work for another company, which unfortunately also has its home-office in Canada. Back to the topic off hand, it was really nice to watch game seven of the Stanley Cup Finals at the Continental Airlines Arena in East Rutherford, New Jersey. It started off in the morning when I went to a popular auction website to see if any tickets were available. I found one pair of tickets at an extremely exorbitant price, and purchased them. After contacting the seller (let's call him Mr. Idiot), we decided I would meet him in the arena parking lot to pick up the tickets. You may have gotten the impression from this article that I hate Canadians more than anyone else in North America. This is true. However, I don't think people from New Jersey are much better. When I arrived at the Meadowlands (the swampland that New Jersey, with the intelligence of an eggbeater, decided to build a football stadium and a hockey/basketball arena on), I called Mr. Idiot and asked where I should meet him. He told me where he was waiting in the parking lot, and I hurried to meet him. It took me less than a minute to make it to this nearly empty area of the parking lot, but he was nowhere to be seen (mind you, I had already wired him the money for the tickets earlier that day). After waiting for about five minutes, I called Mr. Jerk's cellular phone again. No answer. I kept calling him once-a-minute, on the minute, for twenty-five minutes to no avail. I started getting a bit nervous, when finally, after almost a half-hour, Mr. Jerk showed up with two tickets in his hand, proclaiming I'm sorry, I lost one. Apparently, Mr. Jerk had his brain on loan to the New Jersey Monkey Research Center, and did not realize that I, being a person blessed with eyesight, was able to see both tickets in his hand. Well, finally, I took the tickets, walked away, and hoped this guy would get hit by a puck and die. This incident paved the road for a great hockey game in which the Devils won the Stanley Cup (although they have to give it back), the greatest trophy in professional sports. And better yet, no Canadian team even came close. About the Author Aaron currently works as a software/web developer and writes in his free time. He also runs a growing web-based discussion forum at http://www.chitchatforums.com. His personal work is on display at http://www.spetnik.com.