I think I may have mentioned before that my husband likes to watch hockey. When I say “like,” I really mean “highly enjoys,” and when I say “highly enjoys,” I really mean PLEASE DO NOT CHANGE THE TV CHANNEL BECAUSE THE WORLD JUNIOR CHAMPIONSHIPS IS ON AND CANADA IS PLAYING THE U.S. AND IT’S A REALLY GOOD GAME AND CANADA IS GOING TO WIN.
I may have also mentioned at one time or another that on the list of “Sports Jill Tries to Not Watch Frequently,” hockey sits near the top. It’s not at the tippy-top, but it is near the top. I wouldn’t say the sport bores me to tears, but I would say that if I have to choose between watching hockey and watching no TV at all, I’m OK just staring at the wall.
Even if that isn’t a choice.
Perhaps it’s the Canadian in him. Or the skill and speed and dexterity displayed on ice. Maybe it’s just the chance to listen to “EH, O’, CANADA, GO!” (Thank you, PepsiCo for “Cheer Nation” and Canada’s new national hockey cheer. And, thank you for not forcing me to make that up myself.) Whatever it may be, Husband enjoys hockey.
Anyway, in the past two hours, I’ve been overhearing a lot comments directed toward the TV, including, but not limited to:
Oh, that American team is good.
HOW IS THAT ICING? WHAT?!
Oh, for crying out loud! It’s RIGHT THERE!
WHAT IS THAT?!!
I totally saw that unfolding, sweetie. Our goalie sucks.
OH! Off the post!
Oh, come on, guys!
You have a wide open net! You just have to put it in! I could put it in.
With 4:01 remaining in the 3rd, the U.S. leads Canada, 5-3. Oh, wait. Make that 5-4, Canada scored on a power play, and I totally jumped out of my seat when Husband yelled GOAL!
Maybe there will be an EH, O’, CANADA, GO! in our home yet tonight.