So, I've just come in from throwing buckets of hot water across my backyard rink. All in the hopes of sneaking by this terrible winter weather, smoothing out the rough patches, and getting my kids on the ice for an hour or two tomorrow. This obsession with having a sheet of glass was born of marrying a girl whose father (a Northeasterner) would freeze over her backyard as a child, and somehow passed along a love of skating and hockey to my son, his grandson.
I'm a baseball guy, and like many American fathers, I have dreamed of my son playing in the big leagues someday. But I took my kid to a hockey game three years ago, and he hasn't sat down since; all he talks about is hockey, all he watches on TV is hockey, and all he wants to know, after he's sung "O Canada" in the shower in the morning, is "who were the three stars of the game" from the previous night's Pens game. And yes, we're proud Americans. He doesn't realize that we should be rooting for the USA; he just thinks Canada is synonymous with hockey (he's six, and he's probably right).
It's such a great game and I've come to know hockey a bit better; I'm now a devoted Pens fan (hey,we're an hour-and-a-half from Pittsburgh and my kid loves Sid the Kid). So each day I read through TSN.com to get updates on Crosby and the rest of the NHL, and I'm surprised at how often Americans have their enthusiasm, knowledge, and perhaps commitment to the game questioned. Hockey has won me over; it's such a fantastic game that seems to be so difficult to play. I've become fanatical about my ice, and I just want to chime in, after several adult beverages and a dozen buckets of water, to say that although I'm only learning the game, it seems likel the greatest game in the world.
My two cents.