The shit blog of Paul Chris Jones

Dear Diary. You can't live in Canada for years without going to see an ice hockey game. That would be like going to New York and not seeing the Empire State Building. It would be like going to Lebanon and not shooting an AK47. It would be like going to Isreal and not throwing acid into the face of a Palestinian child. It's unthinkable.

Ice hockey, it goes without saying, is Canada's national game. As well as lacrosse. Two national games. Ice hockey and lacrosse.

Since literally no one cares about lacrosse, I'll tell you about ice hockey instead.

Like everything in Canada, all I knew about ice hockey was what I'd seen on TV as a kid. Specifically, a series of films called The Mighty Ducks. In these films, one of Charlie Sheen's brothers (it doesn't matter which one, as neither of them are Charlie Sheen) has to coach a failing junior ice skating team. They learn lessons like "the most important thing is to have fun" and at the end of each film, there's a nail-biting shootout which The Mighty Ducks always win.

The Mighty Ducks have this special move called the Flying V. It begins when one of them shouts, "Flying V!" Then the five players will get into a V formation, like a flock of migrating ducks or someone flipping the V. The kids pass the puck between each other with the speed of a bullet, and then finally one kid shoots the puck in the back of the opposing team's net and SCORES. The Flying V!

(I just googled "The Mighty Ducks" and discovered these films aren't Canadian, they're American. It's like drinking coffee and discovering it's decaffinated.)

So today Girlfriend went to see an ice hockey game. Now, I know next to nothing about ice hockey, just as I know next to nothing about most things. All I know about hockey is the Flying V formation from The Mighty Ducks.

So we climbed up to our seats. Literally climbed. It was like climbing a mountain, the stairs were that steep.

The stadium was big. In fact, it's the biggest ice hockey stadium in the world. That's true. The world's biggest ice hockey stadium is in Montreal. The Bell Centre, it's called. Not because there's a giant bell but because it's sponsored by Bell Canada, a telecommunications company.

Because tickets to ice hockey games are so expensive, the only seats Girlfriend and I could afford were right at the top of the arena. It's so high up there snow spontaneously forms on top of your head. Or maybe it was dandruff. Anyway, Section 404, we were in. It could have been worse - the sections go up to 436.

In computer-speak, 404 means a webpage wasn't found. But we found our seats, after what seemed like a mountain climb.

The first thing I noticed is that I could barely see the rink.

"Is that the rink?" I asked Girlfriend.

"I think so," said Girlfriend.

From up there, the rink was about the size of a postage stamp. It was comical

Then the players came out. At least I thought they were the players. People were clapping for them so it was either the players or some Canadian war heroes. It was hard to tell given how high up we were.

"Are those the players?" I asked.

"Must be," said Girlfriend.

I lied when I said I only knew one thing about ice hockey. I knew two things: the Flying V and the fact there's a famous player called Wayne Gretzky. I looked eagerly for Wayne Gretzky but couldn't see him.

"Which one is Wayne Gretzky?" I asked.

"Who?" said Girlfriend.

"You know, Wayne Gretzky," I said.

"Who's that?"

"You don't know who Wayne Gretzky is?" I asked incredulously.

I couldn’t believe it. Girlfriend knew even less about ice hockey than I did! I didn’t think this was possible. Here was a person who knew even less about ice hockey than me!

I kept looking for Wayne Gretzky. This was ultimately pointless, however, because

a) his team wasn't playing today, and

b) he had been retired for fifteen years.

The two teams today were the Montreal Canadiens (they can't even spell the name of their team right so already they were off to a bad start) and the Florida Panthers. I decided to support the Florida Panthers.

First, the two teams sang their national anthems. Canada's goes like this:

O Canada!

Our home and native land!

True patriot love in all of us command.

Then I forget the rest. I think it goes like this:

Try our maple syrup

You'll like it a lot

O Canada!

There's some other stuff we got.

Then the Americans sang their national anthem, which I guess you're already familiar with. It basically says how great America is and how America is the best. I suppose it would be weird if the American national anthem was about how great Canada is and how Canada is the best.

Then, finally, the game started. Here we go! Time for some ice hockey!

Now, I will tell you what an ice hockey game is like so you don't have to go.

First, the players skate around really fast, in all different directions. Left, right, up, down. You can't tell what's going on all. Somewhere there's a puck, though you can't see the puck because it's so fast and so small, just like the Quidditch from Harry Potter. Just when you think you see it, it whizzes off again, sometimes on its own accord.

Every few seconds, someone scores a goal. At this point, the fans from that team erupt into cheers.

Immediately, no matter which team scored the goal, loud pop music plays over the speakers. This is to try to trick you into thinking you're having fun.

Then, the players get back into position. The music stops just as abruptly as it started. And the whole process starts again.

And this goes on for a couple of hours, with some breaks thrown in to stop the spectators from wandering off from boredom.

What I found most absurd was the music that played after each goal. Couldn't people see that the music was there to distract people from how boring the game was?

The songs were different every time. The songs included:

• "Jump On It" by Sugarhill Gang Apache started playing. (Jump on it! Jump on it! Jump on it! Jump on it!)
• "I Got a Feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas
• "Good Vibrations" by Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch
• "Another One Bites the Dust" by Queen
• "Livin' On a Prayer" by Bon Jovi
• "Seven Nation Army" by White Stripes

It was like a Spotify playlist called "Pop energy".

Now, the music only plays when the puck is in play. When the puck is in play, it's like monastic silence in comparison. There's only the sound of people talking and the occasional thwack of a stick hitting the puck and a "Wooooo!" from an overexcited fan.

The pace was fast. Ice hockey, like all American games, is fast. Points accrue quickly and each round lasts only a few seconds. Compare this to football for example, where you can go a whole match without either team scoring a goal.

Goals come thick and fast. By intermission, the score was something ridiculously big like 37-42. In football, it'd be something 0-1. Because ice hockey is a North American sport, the scores are BIG, just like their cars, boats and guns. I think the logic is that the bigger something is, the better it is.

Here were thousands of people paying good money to see this. Some of them had travelled all the way from Florida. I wish I knew why. I wish I could feel just an iota of the emotion they had towards hockey.

Then there was a break. I spent the break looking around the massive arena and watching people buy chilli dogs and poutine. I was poor so I didn't buy anything.

Then the next period began. Thwack thwack thwack, shh, shh, then ten seconds of pop music, then thwack thwack thwack again.

A player slammed another player into the glass right then. BAM. The crowd cheered and whooped as if they were thirsty for blood. If an old senile man somehow stumbled onto the rink, he'd be dead within a minute.

Being way up at the top of the stadium didn't help me understand anything. The players could have been having an orgy down there for I could tell. Maybe Wayne Gretzky was methodically sucking off all the other players while goats and giraffes slid around comically in the background. I couldn't tell. I could just about tell the two teams apart - one was wearing red and the other blue.

Mercifully, the game came to an end. The score was Montreal Canadiens 2, Florida Panthers 3. Pleased that my team had won, and even more pleased that it was time to go home, I got up from my seat, vowing never to go to another hockey game again.

When the match ended, we stood up to go home, and twenty thousand hockey fans also stood up, also to go home.

Leaving the arena would be a bit more difficult than we thought.

"Hold my hand," said Girlfriend.

"Okay," I said.

"Don't let go," she said.

We left our seats, hurried down the steps and entered a corridor. Immediately we were caught in a river of hockey fans heading towards the exit. There were hundreds of people around us. I let go of Girlfriend's hand. She was gone, swept away by the current. It was like the part in The Lion King where Mufasa gets killed by a stampede of wildebeest. I knew I'd never see her again. I wish I'd had time to say a few parting words but it was too late to think about her now; she was dead, but I was still alive, so I had to think about my own survival.

I was surrounded by hundreds of hockey fans and they were all moving in one direction; a literal human river. Everyone was pushing and jostling to get to the exits. Someone elbowed me in the ribs. Someone else trod on my foot. All I could do was keep moving and hope there was a door.

Finally, we burst outside, into the cold night air. I waited for Girlfriend but trying to spot her among these thousands of ice hockey fans was like trying Wally. I've never been very good at Where's Wally so I went home.

Girlfriend arrived half an hour later. She looked beaten and bedraggled. Her hair was a mess. It was like she had gone feral.

"Where were you?" I asked.

She glared at me. "You let go of my hand," she said.

I couldn't deny this so I said nothing.

"Do you know what I had to do to survive?" she said. "I had to fight a man at the chipolata stand with my shoe." It was then I noticed she was missing one shoe. "And he threw his chipolatas at me."

"Could I make you a tea?" I said, as a gesture of reconciliation.

Both of us agreed never to go to a hockey game again.