I know less than nothing about hockey. The only time I’ve ever watched a game, is during the Vancouver Winter Olympics. And believe it or not, I watched all of them. Willingly. I cheered, and everything.
Back in the day, I did date a guy a few times who was a huge hockey fan. On our first date he took me to a game. The fact that I was wearing a dress and stilettos probably contributed to the fact that our relationship was very short-lived.
My inability to even boil water in those days, couldn’t have helped my cause either. He invited me to his apartment one night, for dinner, and when I didn’t know how long to bake the potatoes, or at what temperature, I could tell, by the look on his face, that I was in trouble. I also dated a professional hockey player once or twice. Nice guy. But we had absolutely nothing in common. Hockey was his life. And it was my nightmare.
“So why”, I’m sure you’re asking, “are you writing a story about hockey?” Well, it’s not really about hockey.
At one minute to midnight (EDT) on September 15, 2012, a mere month before the start of the 2012 – 2013 season, a labour dispute between the National Hockey League (NHL) and Continue reading