I Am A Cane

So, for my birthday, I decided to become a ‘Cane.

I am not talking about assisting others to walk. I’m not talking about that red and white confection we see every Christmas holiday. I am talking hockey, man!

It started back in the early 1990’s. My family was always interested in baseball and basketball and football. Until then, the State of Sunny California had never cared about hockey. We had no team and no reason to sit at an ice rink when we could sit out at the beach. Then the San Jose Sharks appeared. When the games started to be shown on TV my husband and I just happened to turn to the station. He was not impressed. This West Coast girl was suddenly and totally mesmerized. I must admit that it was not easy to keep up. The puck is slapped by a hockey stick and your mind registers it half a second AFTER it hits the goal or backboard. The rules were harder, even when I tried to look it up on the internet. We did not have instant answers from Google yet. I did not even think about asking Jeeves. (That is an inside joke between us Baby Boomers.)

By the way, “Icing” is not where one player digs his skate into the ice turning it into a pothole trap for another player. I may or may not have thought that might be true for a nanosecond.

My darling husband was forever happy with base-basket-football. But I did turn my mother into a Sharks fan. She and I went down to the Shark Tank several times over the years. We would make it a weekend to remember. Reserve a nice hotel room, go to the Sunday afternoon game, and then settle into dinner and jazz later in the lounge. She never did understand the rules fully but she knew that when the red light flashed it meant a goal. Unfortunately, in those early hockey team days, the goals would show on the other side more than on our side. Nonetheless, her enthusiasm could not be diminished. You see, Mom was careful about her colors. She NEVER wore black! She NEVER wore white! But she did enjoy wearing Teal – the SJ Sharks’ team color. So, you could see this Octonegarian walking in, sporting teal slacks, teal shirt, teal jacket, teal pumps(!), and a teal scarf. She would happily chat about being able to watch Merlot and ChooChoo. (Marlow and Cheechoo). I saw no reason to correct her, and those standing close to us would get a chuckle. Her outfit alone should have helped the struggling team but, alas, we lost all three games we attended. And I would not have given up one of those weekend outings just for a win.

Mom is gone now. I have moved to North Carolina. I decided that for my birthday I would go to a Carolina Hurricanes hockey game. I even splurged on a parking pass. I planned my drive to Charlotte (a 3 1/2 hour drive). Then I realized that the stadium was in Raleigh (only two hours away) Did I mention that, without my GPS, I am a fish out of water, lying on the frozen lake? Yes, it is that bad. Anyway, I figured it out and got into my trusty CRV “Red”. I gave myself three hours and got there just as the parking lot was opened. We cars drove in and I parked close to the building. The Shark Tank in San Jose has glass panelling all the way to the top making it look like a fancy frozen fish tank, actually, a shark tank. It is neatly packed into a congested cityscape. If you did not make plans, you would never find parking. Period. The Hurricanes’ ice rink is built into a nice, clean, modern stadium with parking all around. You get to the arena by getting off Hwy 40, which brought me all the way from home. And then you take relaxing, well-marked roads that wind all the way in to the arena. No pressure. No crazy. Just my idea of Southern Hospitality.

This was an important game for me. The Hurricanes were playing the San Jose Sharks. Whaaat!!! I had bought a red team shirt at Dick’s. This would be me saying goodbye to my Sharkies and hello to my new team, The ‘CANES. I met a lovely (older) couple there with their son and his family. We had a great time. As I knew nothing about the ‘Canes, except for a couple of really good players, I watched as the mascot skated out onto the ice. I leaned forward, squinted my eyes even though I could see well enough after my cataract surgery, and asked, “Is that a pig?” My new friends did not correct me. They only explained that with the slow demise of the tobacco industry, the next big industry is HOG farming. And so, I was gently corrected as only gentle southerners can correct.

By the way, if Mom had been there, she would have proudly worn her Teal Outfit. Also, the Sharks won the game, 3-1. She and I would have had a good laugh at that, probably over dinner.

Go Canes!