Hockey

Sometimes I have days that don't get recorded in my memory as events and conversations and actions and reactions, only as music.  It seems to happen to me more and more lately.  (See:  New Jersey and "Free Fallin'").  This weekend falls into that category, and it makes it kind of hard to type out anything of substance, because to me it will always be a playlist, not a journal entry.  It begins with a 7th grader's rap about big women, takes a detour through a Two Cow Garage with a Patty Hurst Shifter and some Social Distortion and a whole lot of Cross Canadian Ragweed, includes some concerns that I'll never hear raindrops without getting "Thorn in My Pride" stuck in my head, intertwines hockey and "Where The Streets Have No Name", and generally adds up to a really good time (just for fun).

Lots of stuff going on this weekend.  I had dinner with Wags and Pipes on Friday night, where I think I saw Wags smile more than I've seen him smile in the last five years, total.  Then the race team had a group outing to see the Rockford IceHogs' last game of the regular season on Saturday night.  Unfortunately the IceHogs didn't show up in as great of a force as we did. 

We started with a backyard cookout.  We ate brats and drank some beers and did some bench racing, mostly gossiping about the cancelation at Eldora due to the adverse track conditions (which finally got DuMom out of the funk of not celebrating Easter at the Big E like all those years in my childhood) and giving our Driver Development Program some grief for racing a road course.

Then we hit the MetroCentre for some really really terrible hockey.

And back to the house for a bonfire, more video games, and more lies.

I had a visitor this weekend, a Player To Be Named at a Later Date due to the following:  1.) So many of you in my racing life will recognize him that I feel really strange assigning a fake name to him but I'll still never type out his real name here, and also 2.) He hasn't done anything in my presence to earn a funny and/or embarrassing name yet and I feel like he deserves that chance instead of getting something random and respectable.

In the past week and a half, I've gotten more messages from him than I can count that contain nothing but these 2 characters:

:/

It's apparently a half-smirk-smile-frown sort of thing.  I think what he's usually trying to say is "Seriously, that was hilarious but I am not going to reward your smart-assery and validate you by laughing at it."   Because. Well.  It usually follows a statement on my end that deserves a response like that. 

Anyway.  It was really fun to find out what :/ looks like on his real face.

Potential interpretations of that expression:

• You call this a hockey game?
• I think your dad is hitting on me.
• I can't believe you yelled "HEY ROB GREAT TO SEE YOU AGAIN" at the guy pissing right next to my truck because he couldn't see us sitting in it.
• Seriously, do you even know what hockey is supposed to look like?  THIS IS NOT HOCKEY.

He hit the interstate for the long drive home this afternoon.  Judging by my emails, there are a couple of you expecting this post to contain more dirt, but you know what, guys?  I have like 18 GB of music to buy before I fall asleep tonight.  And I can't blow all of my blackmail material before I really need it.

P.S.  IceHogs.  Seriously.  That sucked.

"You know what Chicago sports radio is all about?  It's about trashing Chicago teams.  And then the Chicago coaches and teams listen to it, and they play even worse because of it.  Except the Blackhawks.  They're all Canadian.  They don't even have FM radio."

- Wags 1/5/10

A quick story, because I only have like 4 free minutes here.

Last night, Duke and I took my cousin Amanda and her husband Wade to a Rockford IceHogs hockey game.  In the parking garage on the way out, Duke was driving and another car refused to let us pull out of our parking space in front of them, even though the rest of the lot was emptying out rather politely and orderly.  Duke let off the brakes for one second and eased forward a little, and the woman driving the other car closed the distance between her and the truck in front of her from one foot to six inches.

Wade turned to Duke and said "Did she think you were going to be able to sneak in that space?"

Duke replied "I guess so" and eased off the brake for one second again.  The woman closed the distance between herself and the truck by half again.  Duke and Wade laughed and Duke started to repeatedly inch forward.  We were nowhere near her vehicle, but every time he inched forward, she would pull up closer to the truck and then glare at us while the man in her passenger seat stared with a challenging look and we would laugh and laugh and laugh.

Finally, Duke inched forward one last time.

And the woman hit the truck.

During the last couple of trips we've made to the Rockford MetroCentre for Rockford IceHogs games, Duke has spent a lot of time musing aloud about the flags. Duke is a veteran, and a total stickler for following the flag rules. He's been known to leave notes in people's mailboxes when they are displaying their flag inappropriately. The MetroCentre hung the American flag about a foot higher than the Canadian flag, a huge no-no in how both he and I understand the rules of hanging flags. State flags are displayed lower, but the American flag should always fly at the same level as flags of any other country.

Last night, Duke and I were in the Arena Club (the beautiful people area for the very important and beautiful season ticket holders) and Duke brought it up again, to a group of other season ticket holders. One of them called over one of the IceHogs management, asked why the Canadian flag was lower, and we all promptly got into an argument because he insisted that the American flag always flies higher than any other flag, that's the way it's supposed to be. After I patted Duke on the back and said "That goddamn Army lied to you again!" and the rest of the table nodded and agreed, "That goddamn lying Army", this man wandered away in search of a MetroCentre official.

He came back shortly thereafter with an explanation. The Canadian flag was lower because we are at war. Duke laughed at this. Mostly, because we have been at war for the majority of the years since he was in boot camp, so why had he never heard this explanation before? Why was he not taught this along with every other flag rule he follows so vigilantly? When we got home, we Googled it and found this:

When flags of two or more nations are displayed, they are to be flown
from separate staffs of the same height. The flags should be of
approximately equal size. International usage forbids the display of
the flag of one nation above that of another nation in time of peace.

The way that I read that is that it is illegal to fly them at unequal levels at times of peace, but it is not required to fly one higher than the other at times of war. It just doesn't seem like something I'd make a big deal about while we are at war with a country that is NOT the country's flag we are displaying. Seriously, why be disrespectful to Canada when it's not Canada we're fighting? We'll use our war as a reason to take the extra foot of flag flying height while we still can? Jerks.

From what I was told last night, it has taken years of begging by the hockey fans to even get a Canadian flag installed in the MetroCentre, and we still only do the Canadian national anthem when playing a Canadian team, and not every night - as it should be when a majority of the players are Canadian. I grew up at sporting events that featured both the Canadian and American national anthems at every event, and even a couple that featured the Canadian, American and Australian national anthems. My mother once got involved in an argument between two rednecks at the Michigan NASCAR race arguing about why Canadians "stand on god". The Australian national anthem has got to be the longest song in the history of mankind, FYI.

So in conclusion, MetroCentre, while you are not technically incorrect in your display of the flags, I think you're being assholes. Actually, what I really think is that you hung the flag and somebody pointed out your error, and you combed the rules looking for a loophole to avoid having to climb into the rafters again. Congratulations, you found it. The good news is, we'll probably never see peacetime again, so you can just leave it that way forever.

Tonight I went to the Rockford IceHogs versus Toronto Marlies game and it was fantastic. We (Mom and I) started off the night by touring the area of the MetroCentre that is under construction – the new “Arena Club” area for the season ticket holders. It will be very interesting when completed, but it seems a long way out at this point.

The IceHogs won 3-1, with two goals scored by Petri Kontiola, whose name I had to look up to spell correctly because I can’t even say it without it coming out as Patrick Carpentier, the Indy car driver.

Despite the construction tour and the IceHogs win, the most fun I had this evening was by far watching the fan club that the Toronto team brought with them. Most teams that visit Rockford are a little bit overwhelmed by our passion and volume, and these dozen or so Marlie fans drowned us out. They came with a giant drum, their own cheers, and a friendliness that was a pleasure to witness.

On their way out, they wanted a group photo with our IceHogs fan who dresses like Elvis (a staple at all ‘Hogs games). I volunteered to take the photo for them, and started chatting up one of the Marlies fans. He told me about their 9 hour drive, and I asked what exactly the “Marlies” are. He explained that the team was named for the Duke of Marlborough and their mascot name is Duke. I have much Wikipedia reading to do on the subject now. We exchanged business cards and I asked them to send me a copy of the photo that I took of the Marlies and Elvis. I will post that if I get it, and it will be hilarious.

Anyway, these guys were awesome and I hope they come back for every Marlies game. I love sports fans that have fun without being jerks.

I also learned a new cheer tonight – “You got beat by the other white meat.” Think about it.