The Good Old Hockey Game

Oh, the good old hockey game.

It's the best game you can name!

And the best game you can name,

is the good old hockey game!

Stompin' Tom Connors

This post won't mean much if you didn't grow up in the frozen north or at least fall in love with hockey.

Anyway, you sure don't find lyrics like that just anywhere, eh? No siree, boy. You need to be enjoying a beer or a pop between periods of a Kings game, watching the Zamboni (an LA invention) making lazy circles around the rink while you stomp your foot to the "Hockey Song" and with the Kings, you flashback to the Gretzky days because, despite my mindfulness practice, the present with the Kings is often too painful and they are usually out of the game by the third period.

In those old days at the Forum I got to shake hands with Ronald Reagan and meet Mr. Hockey, Gordie Howe. Now at the Staples Center, VIPs are in the suites. Separated from the cheap seats.

Which segues to my good news. Since moving to Socal 27 years ago, I have never missed a season of hockey. Despite how consistently disappointing the Kings have been. Look, if you're thinking how about the Ducks, it took me years to give up being a Habs fan. I don't give up easily. Let me say that again. I don't give up easily! Even during the cancelled season, I saw the Long Beach Ice Dogs play. Hey, it's hockey and good tickets were only $10.00.

But I diverge from my point. This year it looked like my streak might be broken.  Crowds of 18,000 plus are not good places for those with compromised immunity. So what to do.

I wrote the directors of sales for the Kings and told her of my situation. Yes, I shamelessly played the leukemia card. I thought they might sneak me into the press box or some secret spot to view the game. But no, they offered me a seat in one of their suites, far from the maddening crowds. Maybe Luc will show. How sweet it is!