A FAN’S NOTES
A Tale of Two Cities
Twenty-five years and 3000 kilometres from
my hometown, the Montreal Gazette’s Hockey Inside/Out blog has become my
main lifeline to the Montreal Canadiens. This because, thanks to Rogers-NHL
television deal, I can no longer access all 82 Habs games on the
French-language TSN for a mere additional $2.49 a month tacked on to the cable
bill. Happily, my life has transformed enough that I no longer need to sit and
watch all 82 regular season Habs games. The team is entertainment when I want
it and not an escape because I need it. This personal insight speaks to a
mature rebalancing of my life’s priorities. Really.
In the wake of Monday night’s comeback
overtime victory over Vancouver , news this
morning out of Montreal
got even better: Carey Price practiced with the team. When the club announced a
‘lower body injury’ to their all-galaxy goaltender two weeks ago, my first
thought as a logical and compassionate fan was, ‘Please, God, not his already
wonky knee. Let it be a fresh, new, debilitating and possibly chronic injury.’
Sans Price between the pipes the Canadiens slumped to pretty good after
a start hotter than an arsonist’s. The New York Rangers and Dallas Stars have
since caught up to them in the overall standings. Still, there’s a firm
mattress of playoff points padding for the inevitable Christmas and February
doldrums; it’s a long season. Even if nobody in Montreal can quite remember the Stanley Cup
parade’s usual route, it’s at least a legitimate topic for discussion there,
especially given the city’s rotting infrastructure and the maze of dented,
reflective orange RUE BARRE barriers.
In Edmonton
this morning I hauled our bag of garbage out to the back alley bin for
collection. As is becoming the norm, a dog walking douche in the neighbourhood
left me a little gift to re-bag for the trash collector. Mercifully, it was
frozen solid; and perhaps a perfect analogy for the state of the pro game on
the northern prairie.
The Oilers float like untreated sewage in
the NHL’s rank cellar, already 18 insurmountable points behind contenders like
the Stars, Rangers and Canadiens. November isn’t over although Edmonton ’s season is already. Winters here
are harsh, long and dark; when the Oil stinks they provide no distraction to
their shivering loyalists.
The chattering masses were excited before
the puck dropped for real in October. Connor McDavid, the phenom, the godsend,
the next greatest player ever, would wear number 97 even though he was just
18-years-old. Horrid orange retro pre-NHL World Hockey Association third
marketing sweaters were actually sort of attractive in a diced carrot vomit,
Reebok uniform system type of way. Downtown was being transformed by the
construction of the new rink, more office towers and entertainment venues up
the yin-yang. It was good, aiming toward really, really good in 2016.
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