TULSA, Okla. – Walking into the BOK Center, I smell the ice, I see the Oilers logo all around me, I hear the music blaring, and I immediately think…tonight’s gonna be a good night.
For a small town high school business teacher in Oklahoma who is used to preaching to their students not to cuss, not to fight, and not to raise their voice, I find myself facing a quandary. However, this perplexity never lasts long; when the Oilers take the ice for warm up, I am quickly reminded of why I am there.
Having a seat at the glass and sitting behind Ian Keserich in the crease, I get a 3D view of what a hockey puck looks like coming straight at my head at a high rate of speed. The sound of the puck striking the glass causes my adrenaline to ignite.
I remember watching Tyler Fleck skate backwards and wondering in awe how such a volatile sport can be so indescribably graceful at the same time. Different emotions are fueled.
The puck drops and the game begins – soon I have Gary Steffes checking his nemesis right in front of me. Every facial muscle on both players is strewn with stress as the fight for the puck continues.
Gio Flamminio skates off with the puck and the war rages to the other end of the ice. I find myself banging on the glass, allowing earsplitting screams to exit my mouth at the ref for a slashing call he obviously missed, and telling my Oilers guy to kick that nemesis’ a**. An entirely hostile set of emotions is ignited. Umm, what were those lessons I was trying to teach earlier?
I have often wondered what it is about the game that gets me so wound up. Is it the contrast between the beautiful art of ice skating and the fascinating science of game? Is it watching grown men in uniforms fighting for what they believe is theirs? Is it the fans and friends I have made along the way?
Yes, yes, and yes – it is all the above. I have been to several sporting events and none, I mean none, compare to an ice hockey game. The guys that play are in tip top shape and skate because it’s a passion, not because it’s a job. They play with heart and soul, they stand their ground, and they don’t back down when things get tough.
Hmmm…I think I just may have learned something about myself there. All I know is those 2 1/2 hours against the glass allow the nice, quiet, sweet part of me rest, while the beast within takes over.
It is definitely my drug of choice!
