Kick Them when they're Down (3d period)

Next year, same time, things will probably be somewhat different from where I am now. These are the classified reports keeping the home front informed about what's really going on in Canadia.

After these commercially inspired intermissions, we continue with more hockey (*).

Ice hockey, “the game Canadia put on the map”, starts off with singing the national anthem. A necessity because the NHL features both Canadian teams and teams from their anthem loving southern neighbours. The average American activity nowadays appears to demand a gung ho style kick-off, including a song identifying the individual on one or more national or institutional level(s). Because the Canadians cannot let the Americans get ahead in the game, they too started singing their national pride. Ultimately, this results in a pre-game cold war, where the other team is subtly dissed by the singer or the singer suddenly “forgets” the words altogether... oh well, shit happens and their anthem is crap anyway: have a good game chaps !

After the musical or slightly musical start, the hockey activities start.

To the untrained eye, it may seem like ice hockey is actually the activity in between a series of breaks. A hockey game consists of three periods of twenty minutes each. After twenty minutes, the teams get a full 15 minute break. Every period is broken in several sessions that are marked by the beginning and end of commercial intermissions. Furthermore, each session is halted by a face-off as soon as a team commits a serious or less serious foul, the goalie somehow traps the puck (grabbing it, falling on it or any other method also counts), or if a goal is made. Occasionally, two (or more) players may opt for a break by taking off the gloves, helmet and dropping the ice hockey rules all together in favour of boxing regulations.

Going for the flawless victory [cats-mania]

If all these breaks still leave a player without breath, he may decide to substitute himself for a fellow team mate. The latter results in entire teams getting substituted every thirty seconds or so. Apparently, this has nothing to do with a baseball like constitution of the players, but more with the fact that dragging around several kilograms of equipment manages to wear out the highest of the high-end athletes pretty quickly. Suggestions to wear less and play longer seem to conflict with other properties of the game, such as the temperatures required to maintain the ice, the obsession with skating into each other, and the puck which has a nasty tendency to leave bruises when caught with an unprotected body part. If implemented, it would probably result in a pussied-down version of ice hockey, much to the dismay of real men (tm).

The game, or rather the interbreak activities that pass off as ice hockey, are fast paced and highly enjoyable to anyone who loves a good team game. It didn't take much before I too found myself cheering for the Vancouver Canucks and yelling “Go Canucks Go” along with the mob. To 'R's and my delight, the Canucks defeated the LA Kings with a score of three to two. This victory brought Vancouver the third place in their division. The end result is important because a good ranking offers certain perks in the post-season playoffs.

[www.piperreport.com]

The NHL playoffs are better known as the Stanley Cup, an over-the-top multi-layered silver icecream-cup. After the regular season, the best 8 teams of the west coast decide who faces the best of the east coast. These teams play each other in a series of the best of seven, to decide which team is the best ice hockey team of the northern Americas. Sadly, the Canucks won't win the Stanley Cup this year. After a tight 4-3 victory in the first round, Vancouver was over classed by the team with possibly the cutest name in the NHL... the Anaheim Ducks.

Showing its usual editorial brilliance, my favorite free “news”paper, the Metro, came up with the killer headline... “No, Canucks, No”. Nothing better than a bad punchline when they're down...

(*) After various complaints from the SO and Mr Jones, I promise this will be the last hockey episode. For a while at least

A flag for freedom, liberating "The number" [http://www.badmouth.net]

Go Canucks Go ! (2nd Period)

Next year, same time, things will probably be somewhat different from where I am now. These are the classified reports keeping the home front informed about what's really going on in Canadia.

Continuing last week's story

We were waiting in a dimly lit hallway for our transport to come, "I've got our high speed priority transportation covered", 'R' said ... He didn't lie

Being in the infiltration business for one month and some days now, I expected something more undercover or limousiny at the worst, instead a big red and very obvious bus appeared... 'R' seem unconcerned and hissed: "Run, we can still make it !". After a highly intensive three meter dash, we hopped onto the hooligan filled vehicle.

Accustomed to the European soccer fans, this prospect didn't seem too promising. Any time now, I expected the Orca wearing crowd to sing the Canadian variant of "hee buschauffeur, we gaan je busje slopuh", after which the riot police would surely appear and we all would get arrested. Bye bye infiltration mission...

... Luckily thanks to our commanding presence and the imposing looks, the hooligans remained calm. No harm was done, no busdriver was beaten up, the innocents remained innocent and the bus even arrived on time.

the canucks bus, bringing the hooligans to the arena

After disembarking we had to go through the usual "security", meaning our credentials were checked and my bag was searched. The latter consisted solely of an uninterested quick glance. The contents of my bag could be used to influence the game in any way a proud hooligan would have wanted. It contained a throwable umbrella, a tossable book and a hurlable notebook. Should things really get dire for the Canucks, the entire bag could and probably would, be thrown onto the ice, distracting the game for at least a minute and maybe tripping one of the opposing team. Two on a good day.

'R' and I made our way through the crowd, eagerly awaiting the glorious performance their gladiators would bring to light. In anticipation of this event, the vicious pack feasted on the local delicacies : fat hawt dogs, cubic meter popcorn boxes generously covered in liquid butter, nachos dripping in molten cheese (with some pickles) (*) and eight dollar beers (**) .

the crowd wants jumbo dogs and molten butter

Despite the efforts of the security and the tasteful distractions we finally made it: The arena of ice, the cold theater where thousands upon thousands of raving fans were kept in check by four silly stewards, the ring where fate was decided by effort, wooden sticks and real men on real steel blades ... The Vancouver Canucks Ice Hockey Pitch.

Coming soon: Go Canucks Go ! the 3d period.

(*) After seeing this, I expect no further condensending comments from a certain American regarding our "frikandellen", "kroketten" or "sausijzenbroodjes".

(**) Horeca of Amsterdam, take notice: you can get away with this.

boobies

Go Canucks Go ! (1st Period)

Next year, same time, things will probably be somewhat different from where I am now. These are the classified reports keeping the home front informed about what's really going on in Canadia.

North Americans in general don't get sport really well. They missed the intention of rugby and called it football. Football became 'soccer'. Americans seem to consider soccer as not that interesting, since there's not a goal every ten seconds or so.

An american soccer cheerleader

So the they took the ball from the ground, shortened the pitch, raised the goal, fired the keeper (why would you keep anybody from scoring anyway?) and called it basketball. Basketball is so much about scoring, that it eliminated the significance of scoring in a totally different way (*).

Then there is baseball, a game with a design which focuses on making as many people do as little as possible. Baseball is the only 'active' game, next to sumo, which features fat players.

Luckily the North Americans have one saving grace: ice hockey.

Ice hockey seems to be a good mix of the better elements of other sports. There's usually a couple of goals, there's active and often strategic team play and plenty of room for the brilliant individual action. Even if that's not enough, players can also decide to participate in a build-in mini game. To unlock that mini game all a player has to do is skate up to the nearest opponent and suggest he had intimate contact with the opponent's mom, wife or sister. Et voila: the boxing / wrestling minigame ensues.

so... regarding my sister (***)

Since the Canadians are so big in ice hockey, I had no choice to start an in-depth investigation into this matter and setup an infiltration attempt to estimate the potential of this activity. Last Tuesday, one of my local contacts, which I will refer to as 'R', managed to secure entrance to one of the ice hockey gatherings: The Vancouver Canucks vs the Los Angeles Kings.

To make sure I cheered for the right team, I delved into the origins and background of the Canucks.

One of the first things I did was to look into the meaning of the name Canuck. My first guess was that someone got creative with the words Canada and Duck. I immediately dismissed that idea as downright silly; given the impressive titles of the other teams (eg the Atlanta Thrashers, the Buffalo Sabre, the Carolina Hurricans) who in his right mind would think of a timid animal like the duck, as their team's symbol ?

Silly maybe, but not as uninformed as the very strong opinion of some bar lady. This induhvidual insisted Canuck means 'Orca' (/killer whale) in the language of a local native tribe. The latter was creative though: the Ice hockey team has an Orca on their shirt and there are native tribes around. But when you make claims in an attempt to demonstrate your extensive knowledge, make sure you are aware of the fact the Canucks are owned by the Orca Bay Sports and Entertainment company and no tribe uses the word 'canuck' to indicate a killer whale (**).

In fact, as it turns out, the origins are not 100 % known and most likely is slang for 'a citizen of Canada'... Anyway I digress.

Packed with some basic intel on the team's colours, whereabouts and ice hockey rules, I set off to meet my contact, 'R', in the Yale Town Brewery. 'R' was to provide me with the right credentials and instruct me on the upcoming infiltration. Instead we ended up eating pizza, meatloaf and drinking beers.

My contact 'R', photographed with my hidden camera, instructs me on hockey

While all this informal chattery was nice, but I was getting slightly nervous about making the targets. 'R' reassured me we had plenty of time. "I've got our high speed priority transportation covered", he said ...

Next week: Go Canucks Go, 2nd period.

(*) Despite all this condescending talk about basketball, I actually kind of like watching (parts of) it (every now and then)

(**) I'm pretty sure there is no tribe out there, because my extensive research showed no correlation between orca, canuck and native tribe (on the first results page).

(***) While being not too well versed in the entire hockey thing, I do believe neither of these players play for - or wear the shirt of the Canucks.

The art work may not be much, but the gameplay is so much better...



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