While soccer (or football as everyone else in the world calls it) is indeed a beautiful game, hockey, I would argue, is the most beautiful. Every movement is minute but massive in its importance. The puck is behind your stick, but you stretch out your leg, kick with your blade, and push it onto the tape.
Tonight, after my beautiful Florida evening walk I came back inside and watch the third period and subsequently, the overtime period of game one between my Habs and the Washington Capitols.
I was nervous. Overtime in the Stanley Cup Playoffs is a 20-minute period where the first goal wins. Failure to score in the first overtime period leads to another period and after that another and another until someone scores. The Canadiens outshot the Capitols throughout the overtime period yet I was nervous. I saw one lucky bounce, one beautiful shot that could ruin the first game. I knew that the Habs had to win. It was a matter of understanding. As the 8-seed, they were the last team into the playoffs, but they have heart and I knew one win would change everything. One win gives them hope. "We have them in a corner. They've lost one at home. The invincible Caps have lost one at home. One more here, then two in Montreal. Montreal, largest rink in the NHL. 21,000 screaming fans. Packed. Obsessed. Knowledgeable and devoted beyond belief."
Tonight's game was marvelous. It reminds me why I love hockey. The speed of the game, the beauty of a crisp pass, a well-placed dump into the corner, the exhilaration of a glove save.
Tomas Plekanec, Czech, Olympic star, Habs star, moved down the ice and weaved and found himself with room to shoot. He rolled the puck onto his stick and fired over Jose Theodore's left shoulder and the crowd grew silent.
The Habs won and I cheered! I jumped up and down, I slapped the TV. I chanted the Habs traditional chant, "Ole, Ole, Ole, Ole!!! Ole, Ole!!!!" I smiled.
It's two months until I play hockey again. Two months until the rink re-opens and I can lace up the skates. I miss the speed. The feeling of the wind against my cheeks as I glide over the ice. Every other sport is slow in comparison. I miss the feel of the stick, the weight of the puck. I miss keeping my head up, moving into position, bursting ahead. I can't wait to play again. The Habs game tonight made me happy that there are two months of Stanley Cup hockey to go. The Stanley Cup playoffs will finish just as the summer leagues begin. I can't contain my excitement!
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