The following is purely fictional and meant for entertainment purposes only. By entertainment, we mean we hope you laugh while reading this, while framing this, or while burning this. Any similarities between this and actual events is strictly coincidental and frankly, dumb luck. Remember to remind your lawyer about the made-up part, OK?
I guess all this fascination with intra-squad hockey games is akin to watching a guy in the park punch himself repeatedly. It’s kind of amusing for a while but, soon enough, nobody is particularly enjoying themselves. I mean you can admire the guy dishing out the punches but eventually you start to feel sorry for the guy taking the beating.
If you’re one of the precious few in attendance well, frankly, I feel sorry for you. Sure, passion for your favorite team is great but the fact you’re willing to make a 45-minute drive to witness the sporting equivalent of a pre-fight weigh-in is basically really sad. Pet your kid or help your dog with his homework, or something.
Meanwhile you sit back and try to decide on some sort of rationale as to who you’ll cheer for. Does Team Blue want it more? Is Team White as good as the prognosticators say? Picking a side is about as satisfying as cheating on your wife Â– with your Mom.
The interesting part in these self-mutilation spectacles is the vigor shown by the intrepid reporters covering the stories, as if it was written in stone that Team Blue was destined to beat Team White.
They will conduct post-game interviews in the same adversarial mode as they do during the regular season, as if the fight for jobs is the most important by-product of this Â“bigÂ” game.
No matter how intense Dude is to win a fourth line winger’s spot against that Other Dude, there is only one rule that exists in these contests: Injure anyone making seven figures and you will see, first hand, that they do play hockey in southern Wyoming.
And think about how difficult it must be for the coaching staff to motivate a split squad. It doesn’t exactly seem like the most fertile place to cultivate one of those immortal pre-game speeches.
All right fellas, we need this game. I can’t stress how important this is. Win this game, leave it all on the ice, or – yes that’s right JablonskiÂ… the terrorists win.
Charlie Teljeur, creator of THN’s hockeysockpuppettheatre, brings you Loose Change every Tuesday and Friday only on thehockeynews.com.
Want to talk to Charlie about love, life, or Loose Change? Email him at firstname.lastname@example.org