Many are wondering when Gary Bettman and his League will finally dig their heads out of the sand and start reading the demographic tea leaves. Ignoring the plural roots of hockey and misdiagnosing the threats to the game's future could be fatal mistakes. This strategic miscalculation could leave the next generation of hockey fans out in the col
Perhaps not everyone north of the border is altogether enamoured with the return of hockey. Some Canadian fans will surely refuse to forgive the league and the players for the absurd, avaricious four-month disruption to their puck fix. But I suppose we rejoice. Hockey's back. With a brand-new season. Sweet -- and short.
I know the NHL is really happy with itself right now, and I can't stand for that. The Lockout may be ending -- pending approval and some seriously important paperwork -- but the NHL still has to answer for the past few months, and the years before that. The league betrayed its product and millions of its own fans.
In an irony as ripe as weird Uncle Willard's bedside denture jar and nuttier than old Auntie Jean's inedible fruitcake, there are whispers that the National Hockey League and its players union are inching toward an agreement to truncate their age-old lockout, and allow a new season to finally begin... right around the time the world is scheduled to end.
On Tuesday in New York, the National Hockey League Players Association (NHLPA) is meeting with players to "facilitate dialogue." The entire union is irrelevant, if this works. The players and owners are finally bringing it on home, and the PC'ness that we've been thrown and tossed is out the window.
We've lost our past-time. Now we are in danger of losing our marbles. But our great (and apparently resilient and creative) country have apparently decided to fill the mighty void with...sex toys. They're flying out the door like there's no tomorrow -- or, at very least, like there's no hockey today. Talk about good vibrations.
There are three types of people in this world: those who don't give a hoot about hockey, those who are peripheral fans of the great game, and those who are hockey fanatics. The first types naturally don't care about the work stoppage. The second types have easily, painlessly moved on to other sports, and other forms of entertainment: who knew that darts or Dancing With The Stars could be so doggone riveting? However, it's the third type -- the hockey fanatics -- that I'm truly worried about.
Let's face it, if the world is ending in a few months, Canadians had best acknowledge that the year 2012 has given us a unique national identity before we (and the Earth's seven billion inhabitants) are unable to throw another curling rock over the hog line. Without waiting for the world to end or the NHL season to start, let's begin.