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“You are always busy,” my friend told me after, once again, I had to decline an invitation for something or other. Apologetically, I rattled off a list of all the things I have going on in my life, then, after a pause, stating, “Hockey season is pretty much over though, so I will have more time.” There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone, then a chuckle, and a confusing “...ok.” Discombobulated, I start running through the Capitals pre-playoff run, and then counting aloud the number of times I had been up to New Jersey and Philly for games this season. With the A.D.D. in full swing, I incoherently recap my playoff extravaganza weekend, detailing how I went to the Rock to watch the last game of the Devils/Rangers series, and then went down to D.C. the next day to catch game 5 of the Caps/Flyers, and then how I went to the heartbreaking game 7 loss a couple of days later. I can tell I lost my friend minutes ago, and I throw in the towel, trailing off while complaining about how I hate driving through Delaware. The call ends awkwardly, while my friend, in a state of fear and confusion, tries to hang up A.S.A.P. Sadly, these kinds of exchanges are pretty much the norm for me. My love for all things hockey is shared by very few people in my life. Rather than explain that I can’t go out because the Caps/Pens game is on, or that I have to get home because the Devils are playing the Rangers, I find myself saying I am not feeling well, or I have a lot of stuff to do at home, it is easier than explaining why, and not as weird. Growing up in a suburb off I-95, north of Baltimore, about half way between D.C. and Philly, hockey is foreign. Stating that you are a hockey fan usually evokes jokes about how no one cares about hockey, or you get the common smart-ass response of “the NHL is still around?” It is the kind of market the NHL, no matter how hard it tries, just can’t quite seem to reach. Last week I walk into my gym wearing an Ovechkin t-shirt; the greeter asks if I am a hockey fan and, of course, I get excited, much like my dog at the sight of food, proclaiming, “Yes!” He then remarks, almost in question form, “The Caps are doing well?” Taken off-guard I respond, “Yup,” and then he says, “they have that really good guy, right? What’s his name...” I give him a moment to ponder, and I open my mouth to answer just as you can see the light bulb go on and he proudly declares, “Crosby!” I just hang my head in disgust and walk away because I know that at that point anything coming out of my mouth would probably be demeaning and offensive. In a society where sports like football and baseball rule all, this is the plight of the hockey fan. The thing about hockey fans that differs from football, basketball, or baseball fans is there is no such thing as a casual fan. Hockey fans don’t just like hockey, they love it with every fiber of their being. In the hockey world, we have rivalries, we despise other teams, we want to punch their star player in the face, and their fans are the worst. We belittle them, we hate on them, and let them cause us to act completely irrationally. In the real world, it is different. You run into a fellow hockey fan and they can love Sean Avery, think Crosby is the second coming, or claim that the Flyers play clean to their grave, but in the real world it doesn’t matter, they are a hockey fan and they understand. They have the secret decoder ring, they know the pledge, and they understand that bond. As hockey fans, we hate the long summer. We fall into a depression when our team is out of the running to hoist the sacred Stanley Cup, and as the air is chilled and the leaves turn orange and yellow we are reborn, knowing there is no feeling like stepping foot into the arena and seeing that clean sheet of ice for the first time. Rather than wallow and feel bad for the state of hockey, I have started to feel badly for those who don’t know hockey, they are truly the ones missing out. It flabbergasts me that most of the people I know will never see Ovechkin score a goal, or watch Martin Brodeur make an amazing save look easy, or see Joe Thorton make a mind boggling pass to set up a goal. I talk about hockey all the time, it is natural, and it is my passion. While my co-workers use up their vacation time when it gets warm, I save as much as I can for when it gets cold. I just don’t understand why someone wouldn’t want this in their life. Maybe I am the one that is strange, but I love the hockey fan lifestyle and I would not change it for anything in the world.
Meghann Bowman
Washington Capitals Correspondent
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