Professional Hockey is violent and fun to watch. The intensity level comes up, when teams are fighting for the treasured Stanley Cup. I only watch the playoffs. I really don't understand all the rules of the game, but it doesn't matter. I love watching guys getting plastered by walloping checks. It's gotta' hurt...I mean HURT bad man! There's high-sticking, eye-gouging, fighting, teeth are knocked out, blood is all over the ice, jerseys are pulled over players heads, as guys pummel the shit out of one another! It's all-out war!
There's also a penalty box. This is the place where bad-boy, hockey players go for a quiet time. It's just like grammar school. I can hear Sister Carmella right now saying: "Sit down and cool off for a while, you bad boy!"
I also like the humor-and-sex in the beer commercials, between periods. Our Chicago Blackhawks are in the playoffs this year. I remember watching the old timers like Gordie Howe, Stan Mikita, and other guys who played the game in the old Chicago Stadium. We all would get drunk and stomp our feet. It felt like that old house would tumble down sometimes, it got so loud! In the old days, there were as many fights in the stands, as there were on the ice. We always went to Greek Town on Halsted Street, to Diana's or The Parthenon restaurants. We ate flaming Saganaki, and Braised Lamb Shanks, and drank Ouzo and beers. We always were pretty lit up, by the time we got into our seats at the stadium. The fella's would stop for a few more on the way home. Sometimes the guy driving the car would get pulled over, by one of Chicago's finest. Our driver always handed the cop a C-note, along with his drivers license. Usually the worst case scenario would consist of the cop taking the keys, and driving us to a 24-hour coffee shop, so we could eat breakfast and sober up. He'd come back an hour later, toss us the keys, and ask us if we felt better. We would thank him, and he would say, "Have a good night fellas', make sure you drive home safely, now." There was no such thing as alcoholism back in the 60's in Chicago. If you held a steady job, and supported your family, and didn't kill anyone, you weren't considered a drunk. Drunks were the guys who lived in flop houses on Madison Street, or begged from the gutters. We didn't have homeless people back then. We referred to them as "bums".
Damn! The Predators just tied the Hawks in the 3rd period. We really need to beat these bums! Let's kick some ass, Blackhawks! I wonder if the Nashville Predators have drawling Southern, French Canadian accents? Times sure have changed. Oh shit! The Predators just went up 4 to 3. One cool thing NBC showed after the 2nd period, was a Blackhawk player pulling a bloody front tooth out of his mouth! I've never seen a close up of this on tv before! The extraction of a bloody "chicklet" is worth all the time I invested in watching this game. It's under 4 minutes to go now, and the game is going at a fever pitch. The Hawks have to score, and are really feeling the pressure! They have to score for an overtime. They go to the empty net...geez! All seems to be lost. There's only 1:30 playing time left. Shit! Hossa gets a five-minute penalty! My God!...This is unbelievable...With 13 seconds left, the Hawks score! This is fucking unbelievable! Patrick KANE!!!!!! We go into overtime! Next goal wins the game.
As I mentioned before the Hawks have a 5 minute penalty. The Predators have the power play going strong, and they are really intent! The Predators are taking shot-after-shot, and I feel like covering my face...They are going to score...I feel it in my gut! We survive the penalty time, and get the puck. Marion Hossa immediately gets the puck and slaps in the goal!!! Hawks win! Hawks win! Hawks win! There's gonna' be a lotta' DUI's tonight, on the good old South Side of Chicago! The madhouse of Madison Street was rockin' this afternoon!