Big Old Hockey Heart

Buddy didja see him? In th'lobby at th'show?
He was leanin' by the wall there,
With 's hat pulled kinda low
I swearta God, it WAS, chum! Y'culdn' miss that face
Ev'n with th' hat pulled down--
The way 'e took up space, eh?
The way 'e took up space.

He's broad acrost the chest, bud. Ev'n in real life.
Hockey hall-a-famer, but--
He had 's share a' strife...
'Member how the tragedy got played up on the news?
Buddy it was ter'ble...
Ev'n heroes lose, eh?
Ev'n heroes lose.

Christ, no I din't talk to'm! He's out t'watch a show,
He don't need t'be botherd by
Some ord'nary joe
I know he hoisted up th'Cup! An' more'n once'r twice
I think about that alla'time.
Mus' be friggin' nice, eh?
Mus' be friggin nice.

Damn straight'e won th'Selke! Few times 'na row.
He cu'd score, but he cu'd back-check
Plus 'e'd drop the gloves 'n go--
Now there's a guy who'd probly give ya pretty good 'dvice
'Bout how to keep 'er goin' strong at
Both ends o'the ice, eh?
Both ends o'the ice.

Cuz I'll tellya somethin' buddy, I wuhn't want his life
I know he's had th' glory
An' the money an' th' wife
But w'nhe was stannin' there 'lone
I kinda caught 'is eye
I cu'd see fer all he's done
He's jis a normal guy, eh?
He's jis a normal guy.

Jis n'other guy that seen his good times turn t' bad
Jis n'other guy like us,
Broke up inside, 'n sad
Same's us, he's gotta keep on
Playin' out'is part
I bet'e thanks th'Lord e's got that
Big old hockey heart, eh?
Big old hockey heart.

Going for gold

Fact: I've declared myself a Buddhist; yet I've also declared myself willing and eager to find a voice and a vision for Canada, which is a worldly attachment if I've ever heard one.

Fact: I love hockey, and I'll be cheering fervently for our hockey teams in Torino, yet I despise patriotism as an ego trip and distrust nationalism as a recent historical invention and a threat to global peace.

Does this pair of facts add up to nothing more than a paradox?

How can I sit in my little house in my little neighbourhood, among the little Buddhas, on a big couch looking at a big TV with a big red maple leaf on my t-shirt and a beer in my hand, yelling "GO CANADA!"?

I think the answer, if there is one, has to do with two aspects of my character, the observing self and the active self. My active self is a warrior. That guy gets involved. He wades in, fists flying, willing to shed blood if necessary, to fight for the cause, to be engaged and alive. He's a vehicle-driving, hammer-swinging, guitar-playing, canoe-paddling, woman-loving, Canadian human doing, and he is a force to be reckoned with, for a while, anyway.

My observing self, by contrast, simply watches him go. My observing self can see the limits of this so-called man of the so-called world. He knows he's bound to fall, bound to fail, bound to die. He's got a tragic flaw: He's human. He's going down. But let's not let that spoil our day.

Buddhism is my acknowledgement of the observing self, the way I honour the dispassionate, equanimous elder growing within. In the end we leave all this stuff behind, and I'd like to diminish the suffering of attachment along the way. That's shaman talk.

Canada is the skin my warrior lives in. It's a style, a statement, an involvement, a cultural investment. So long as I am engaged in being an individual in a specific set of circumstances, I choose this one, and I choose it with the passion and energy of a hockey player. That's warrior talk.

Perhaps all dichotomies are false. The warrior, like the observer, lives by a code. Is the cause more important than the code? No. It is better to lose with honour than to win by cheating. And the enemy is to be respected, and the influence of good fortune to be acknowledged, and the transience of all things to be remembered. Truly, the glory belongs to God. In the struggles we all face in our own mighty and mini quests, what is really golden is the effort, not the prize.

So if you hear me shouting "Go CANADA!", it's just both my selves in harmony, hoping fervently (and dispassionately) for gold.

Life without the NHL?

I've been silent long enough about, and now I'm going to say what I think.

Have you ever seen one of those situations where two petulant children are fighting, and the parents catch them, and they each try to blame each other for "starting it?" That's what the lockout looks like to me. And like an angry parent, I say "I don't care who started it, just CUT IT OUT."

If they don't cut it out -and they probably won't, unless either the commissioner, or the head of the player's union loses his job over it - it's really simple. I will stop caring. I really, really will. I know I will, because I have started to stop caring already.

Those who know me, know I love the Leafs. And I watch the NHL a lot, and I'm a lover of the game. So what.

I love Georgian Bay, too, but I learned to live elsewhere. I loved my grandmother way more than I love the Leafs, and she's dead, God rest her soul, and I'm over it. I'm divorced: enough said about that. Besides my home town, I've left Montreal and Halifax, Costa Rica, India, Fiji, several jobs, 2 universities and a very intense little college behind. I'm okay. I've moved on.

In fact, half of this city has left their entire countries behind them... and everyone moves on.

This argument isn't even about something important like family, let alone geography, theology, history, or justice. It's not even about hockey. This is an argument about money among people who have too much of it. Cry me a frickin' river.

And don't try to tell me that national pride is at stake. National pride is what you see when players play for nothing, in the spirit of competition. It's not about the right to live like kings while the people who really pay the bills go without seeing a game for their entire lives because they can't afford to get into the rink.

Real hockey continues, in driveways, on ponds and rivers, and in the hearts of people who love it, love to watch it, love to play it. That won't go away. And if the rest of it does, because a bunch of millionaires couldn't solve a childish argument, I'm sorry to say it deserves to die.

I sure don't want to see my friends who work in the industry lose their jobs. And I don't want to go without playoff fever or the easy camaraderie that comes watching a game in a bar. And I really wanted the Leafs to win the Cup, and I still hope they will, and soon. I'd rather these grown-up kids work it out. But I'm not confident they will. And if they don't, can anyone tell me why I should care? Why should anyone?

Life without the NHL? Whatever. I'll get over it. We all will.