MARC CHOQUETTE
Staff Writer
While the ice doesn’t stay frozen too long here in “paradise,” the rinks have opened up for business after a year’s hiatus. That’s right. You may have not noticed due to the enveloping Pepperdine bubble, but after a bitter dispute between players and owners and a subsequent lockout, the NHL has returned to please the rink-rats among us.
Guys, it’s back. The bone-chilling hits, laser-guided slapshots, exhibitions in goaltender acrobatics, and who can forget the oversized fellow in the Red Wings jersey sitting next to you at Staples, with that brew and delicious hot dog, taking in some crisp puck action?
Girls, if you’re still reading this, and you have yet to discover hockey’s greatness, picture some huge, muscular, sweaty guys getting physical on the ice. But who am I kidding? I know during those “OC” or “Laguna Beach” commercial breaks, you flip on the Ducks just for awhile. It’s OK, you don’t have to tell anyone. I mean how can you not be a fan of a team that’s named after a Disney movie with not one, but two sequels? (The second was the best, of course.)
Growing up in New England, where hockey is practically a religion, I was introduced early. My father used to play on the frozen ponds of Rhode Island in the dead of winter with his buddies. Back in the old days, the sport had been played some in New England. The Boston Bruins Hockey Club began in 1924, playing games against the “Original Six” teams. The sport really took off in our area, though, when a young kid from Canada showed up in Boston in 1966 to lace up the skates with the Bruins. That kid (he was only 18) was Bobby Orr, and he was almost as big as the Beatles. While it might not be a good idea to ask your parents what they were doing in 1970, if you ask Bobby, he’ll tell you he was just winning some Cups.
Following Orr’s greatness in Boston, bringing the town a few championships, hockey’s popularity in New England blew up. Rinks were built in many towns. High schools formed teams. Youth and house leagues started at rinks. Soon hockey wasn’t just some weird sport popular in that foreign land Canada.
Hollywood soon picked up on hockey’s growing popularity, with the amazingly hilarious film “Slapshot” (1977) with the legendary Paul Newman and, of course, the comedic geniuses, the Hanson Brothers. If you’re bored one night at Pep (not that this could ever happen), do yourself a favor and go down to Blockbuster and rent this flick. With popcorn and that someone by your side, it’s a nice way to spend a couple hours. See guys, you don’t have to settle for the chick-flick every time. If a girl wants to watch “Ten Things I Hate About You,” just tell her it’s not happening and throw in “Slapshot.” It’s a guaranteed success. After all, a girl who doesn’t dig a movie like “Slapshot” isn’t worth your time.
So while Pepperdine hockey might not be what’s happening on campus, since we a) don’t have a rink and b) don’t have a team, getting jacked up about hockey is admittedly not easy. However, hockey’s greatness is closer than you think. Calabasas has a roller hockey rink on Lost Hills Road. If playing isn’t really your thing, the L.A. Kings play home games at Staples Center and the Mighty Ducks of Anaheim (or is it the Los Angeles Mighty Ducks of Anaheim now?) play at the Arrowhead Pond, not too far from the Happiest Place on Earth: Anaheim, Calif. Err … Disneyland. Kings tickets are as cheap as $25 and you can get into the Pond for just $15. It’s a pretty quacktacular deal.
So lace up those skates, curve up that stick a little bit, throw on the Bruins sweater like Happy Gilmore and bring your attitude because hockey has returned for the winter. No longer do we have to settle for the ridiculously boring NBA and the more-powerful-than-God attitudes among many of the players. Let’s face it, college ball is the only representative of real basketball anymore. You’re not that cool, NBA balers. Root for a sport where the guys play about five times as hard, talk a lot less trash (away from the ice, at least), and get in fights (or, as I like to call them, aggression relief sessions) with each other while the refs skate around them in circles and let them go at it. New rules forbid games to end in ties now. No more of that mediocre feeling you get when the game ends in a tie. Shootouts now determine the games that the first OT session cannot resolve.
The excitement level is just through the roof, and when playoffs arrive at the end of April, the heat is turned up faster than these darn Santa Ana winds that are keeping temps in the 80s in, umm, November? Shouldn’t it be snowing by now? Man, I need to get back home for a reality check. Unfortunately, this is the last issue, and I will be in London experimenting with soccer hooliganism next semester, so I wish all readers a great Christmas break and great second semester.
11-17-2005
