Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Picasso... Pisani...


I know I have been gone for a month. Once in a while you just have to retreat a little to get ready for the road ahead... I have been all over. St. Louis, Toronto, Chicago, New York, Kansas City. Every city trying to find the hockey playoffs on TV... There is something very deflating sitting with a bunch of Americans at the ESPN zone in Chicago cheering for the Edmonton Oilers and watch them blow a 3-0 lead to lose 5-4.

The hockey playoffs energize me... life vicariously through watching sport. But it gets me going.. I ride my bike more. I ride it harder... I look for household chores that are rough physically. I know this sounds weird but I think its the way men think. Once we get in the mood to be physical we want it more and more.. I watch a great period of hockey and I want to go out and take my pick and attack my rockpile or get on that bike and ride like a wild man.

Tonight was a wild game... Carolina dominated at times but Edmonton prevailed in overtime. Fernando Pisani broke in and scored a Picasso... complicated but beautiful goal.. Those who know me will know that I am a life long Toronto Maple leaf fan but I went to high school in Edmonton and I can't help but root for the boys..

Fernando Pisani drafted in the 8th round...an Edmonton Boy... three years in the league but already 28 ...which means he was in the minor leagues a long time..the great Canadian story...

There are either one or two playoff games left...Carolina is still up 3 games to two with Game 6 back in Edmonton. I want it to go seven so I will feel better... its strange...

posted by hockeyman @ 9:02 PM

2 Comments:

At 12:55 PM, Blogger Miss Kim said...

Well.... gosh... that. post. was. sort. of. sexually. arousing.
(was it just me?)

 
At 11:57 PM, Blogger hockeyman said...

its not meant to be. But there is a certain amount of virile feeling.... when one watches a rousing period of hockey and then goes outside and attacks the roots on a pesky stump. when the stump yields and flops from the hole we men must use all our maturity to stop from beating our chests and sending out a tarzan type yell.

 

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