3 March 2007

Crack Smoking Whore Fucking Hockey


"You are as full of shit as anybody who works here Beer but I have to agree with you about one thing - watching the Canucks play, even though they are winning all the time, is about as exciting as the Pink Floyd reunion. Same goes for watching the Leafs on Saturday night. If I was not drinking and trying to forget about the week in the mill I would turn the motherfucking tv off. Do you think it is all Bettman's fault?"

"I wish it were Bettman's fault Poops," I told my old workmate Pupinder as we slurped our tea during the day's first rest break. Poops did not look well. His eyes have been becoming increasingly jaundiced and he does not have the dirty jokes and big laugh that made him such a great guy to work and drink with when he was younger. "Bettman is just a front for the billionaire shits who own the NHL nowadays. And the billionaires who are allowed to own an NHL team have to be boring - can you think of anybody you would want to party with less than the various people who have owned the Canucks over the years? The NHL could use more owners like the crackhead whore fucking Dope City airline owner who just about got busted, but mysteriously let off by his cop buddies, recently."

Poops nodded, "If all the NHL owners started smoking rock and fucking half dead hookers at 5:30 in the morning at least Don Cherry would have something to talk about besides soldiers dying in Afghanistan."

"You want to go to a real hockey game Poops? I was thinking of catching the Cross Checker's play-off game tonight. If you want to go meet me at the pub for a few around five. Game's at 7:30."

When I got to the pub at five Poops was already there. Having already downed his first double Glenmorangie he was ordering another and ordered me a pint when he saw me. "You want anything besides a beer, Beer?"

"I'll have a triple Black Russian." I mostly like whisky and beer but, as any billionaire crack smoking whore fucker will tell you, variety is the spice of life. Besides I had had to deal with a millwright who had fallen off a ladder and broke himself up something terrible at work this week. Nothing takes the edge off caring for the wounded like alcohol.

When we got to the game Poops had a good look around and remarked, "I am the only brown face in the building except for the Cross Checker goalie. You know, hockey might actually take off in the States if the game ever found itself a black Wayne Gretzky."

We were sitting beside a bunch of young fuckers easily as boozed up as ourselves. They were singing soccer chants, cheering the Zamboni driver between periods and generally having one fuck of a time. Hockey crowds at junior 'B' games are working class. Not one fucker in the crowd was in a suit trying to sell bullshit mining stock to the suit in the seat next to him.

The game itself was maybe the best junior 'B' game I have attended. The play was fast and the body checking violent. After one on ice crash Poops cheered and exclaimed, "This is hockey!"

The guy who takes care of the music played Motorhead's "The Game" right after the Canadian anthem. And the cheeseburger I had during the second period drizzled down my face so bad it took me five minutes to soak all of it up into the pocketful of napkins I had stuffed into my pocket at the concession.

Black Russians, hamburger drizzle, soccer chants and Motorhead. That's hockey!

2 comments:

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Mr. Beer N. Hockey said...

I have nothing against people making a buck. But advertizing brainwashes people into thinking if they buy a car they do not need they will somehow get more and better sex out of the deal. If it were true I would have a garage full of cars I do not need.

Hopefully, one of the reasons folks drop into the Dope City Free Press is because we are pretty much commercial free.

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