and this is how the world ends, not with a bang but with a whimper

Stanley Cup Game 5.

An adventure involving one hockey obsessed 18 year old, her hockey loving dread locked room mate, 5 bars, countless orange juices, and a few tears.

It was 9 30 when I trooped out of the apartment this morning, toeing behind me by much abused room mate, complaining that I’d dragged him from his coffee (if he had got up on time it wouldn’t have been a problem). Our first stop was The Fox Sports Bar, two blocks from our inner city apartment, but alas it was not open. Neither was the sports bar in Jupiters Casino ( a further block from our apartment , and then across a bridge) much to our chagrin (we could bet there!) so we tramped on. Another bar later (finding they were showing The French Open) we finally stumbled/ran/ strided towards Jimmy’s on the Mall (ALL HAIL the BAR). 20 meters from it I spotted the white ness of the ice, and a hockey stick and started jumping running cheering (much to the amusement of half of the Biggest Open air mall in the state).

We had found Ice Hockey.

Much to our joy, the stuff at the mostly empty bar/restaurant (open air, right in the middle of the mall) turned the speakers from music to the tv, letting us enjoy the commentary as we drank our breakfast juice and sadly sadly watch our team get decimated (in the company of a nice lad from Toronto, who was equally as L). There was shouting, there was crying, there was cheers, and much laughter from nearby American army boys who thought it was hilarious how “animated” I became, and the staff who had no idea what was going on.

Second intermission we relocated from our seats to the now open Union Jacks (home of every Australia pay tv channel, and Ice hockey on a projector screen). It went down hill from there, vodka found it’s way into the orange juice, and tears were shed (much to the amusement of the staff) as Ray Emery (who I may have called some not very nice things) promptly fell apart.

The playoffs this year, have rekindled my love of hockey (never lost just much mangled) but the finals series left me sadly disappointed. I wanted 7 games! I wanted competition! I wanted more being able to see them play since I’m now legally old enough too!

But alas, Alack, it was not to be.

I must say though, when it came down to the wire, as the team fell apart, Alfie stood tall and showed not only to Ottawa but the NHL, that he is a captain to be reckoned with. His two goals, in desperate attempts to salvage a season, to present what now seemed inevitable, show the strength of his resolve, his sheer will and determination and for that he will gain enormous respect, and hopefully quiet the nay sayers.

I now encourage you all as hockey in North America draws to a close, to pick your AIHL team (BRISBANE BLUETONGUES) because even though we only play twice a week, you get no coverage and we’re about 15th rate compared to the NHL. We’re still playing!

Till September!

And I am closing with a quote I found in my book today. I thought it was relevant.

No victory, nor yet defeat is chalked against the players name. But down the roll, the final scroll, shows only how he played the game.
Grantland Rice.

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