You know those moments when you realize, "if I don't say something to my friend, I can no longer call myself one?" We're currently having one of those.

They're awful moments. Maybe your friend is being cheated on. Maybe they're dressing horribly, gaining weight or drinking too much. Or maybe they're at the post-game skate-around with their favorite team, holding a hand-knit quilt of their favorite player's face, holding a birthday card for him to give his mother.

You've gone too far.

While addressing over-interested fans may seem like biting the hand that feeds me, I can't make much less money than I'm currently making as a writer.

As a player, I dreaded certain fans — specifically those who overstep their boundaries. I think what happens is, they follow the team, and want to know more about the players they follow. Which is just fine.

So they do a little research. Look up where they're from, read up on some interviews, whatever. And there's nothing wrong with that, either.

But in this internet age of Facebook, Google, Twitter and Wikipedia, it can be awkward when a first-time introduction is followed up with something about "my girlfriend's sister's husband." At least pretend like you don't know way too much about someone you've been e-creeping out until the third or fourth conversation, y'know?

I have numerous friends who started as faces in the crowd, and I still keep in touch with a number of them today. On the other hand, I cut ties with a few over-zealous hockey fans quicker than you say "the call is coming from inside the house".

The point is simple.

When I was 22, I met Steve Yzerman at a bar. He was out with about ten other members of Team Canada, the night before the first Olympic practice in Kelowna, having a beer.

After some idle chit-chat about my father, I said "I'm surprised to see you having a beer the night before such a big practice." To which he responded, like the ultimate father-figure/captain "Y'know Justin, moderation in everything."

So where's your moderation, crazy hockey fan? Listen to Stevie Y.

I'm a huge fan of watching sports, but I just don't get what the obsessives are trying to accomplish. Would a lasting relationship be the ultimate success for someone like that? Is that their Stanley Cup?

I'm just giving you the player's perspective, which is, we simply don't get it. Oh, and that we're weirded out.

I never even played in the NHL and had multiple nights ruined by awkward, over-zealous fans. Why am I re-signing your hat again? For that same awkward, forced dialogue we had last time? You were in to that, eh?

Don't misconstrue my message. I loved the fans, and did end up with real friends who started as fans. But those that I got to know where the ones who were OK with leaving when I said "aaaaany-ways." It's a sign that you can read normal human social signals, and a good indicator that the person was someone I'd want to talk to next time.

There's nothing wrong with boosters and fans that go to every event. There is something wrong with those who drag conversations out like a caveman would his wife. And my head would hurt as much as the cavewoman's at the end.

That's all. I hope this was your moment of realization — your lightbulb moment, your epiphany, your ROCK BOTTOM.

Now unhook those knitting needles and put away the template of the coach's face. He doesn't want what you're making, either.

Find something else to do!

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somewhere, 10 superfans just jumped out 10 different windows.

SDC , January 13, 2010

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