Hockey Hair and Hockey Songs

What is it about hockey that attracts the types who still like classic rock, heavy metal, the working class, and long hair on dudes?  And I don't at all mean this in a bad way.  It's good.  Very, very good.

I went to a Chicago Blackhawks game on Friday night, and I noticed that during any break in the action the house music would kick in with songs like Bad Company's "Rock and Roll Fantasy" or Billy Squire's "Lonely Is the Night."  What other sport is still utilizing songs such as these?  I like to think I know a little bit about what is good and what isn't in music, and these songs are really stupid in a lot of ways but really enjoyable in most every important way.


(Jeez.  That is just a lousy lip-sync performance.  He doesn't even try to sell it.  Must have been on a bender the night before.)

I also noticed that women going to a hockey game aren't all dolled up like the women in the first few rows at a Lakers game.  Not at all.  Those gals come in there without makeup, wearing a baggy-ass hockey jersey (something few girl can look good in), and they are very invested in the game, not even talking to their boyfriends about anything but hockey.  I went with an old friend who I only see once a year or so, and we were getting looks for talking about things that did not concern the game at hand.

Another break in the action at a critical moment in the game, and we hear REO Speedwagon's "Riding the Storm Out."  I did a blog post a number of years ago about pedaling my bike through an epic storm on the  way home from work to the sounds of that very song.  And yes, I had it on my iPod then and still do.  Sue me.

Hockey is it's own little world.  And it's the only sport in Chicago where the team is playing worth a damn, so I'm trying to get into it a little more.  With feel good songs like these, how can I not get enthused?

And here is this song because I heard it in the bar after the game and it kicks major ass.  Have a very sham-a-lam-a-ding-dong Martin Luther King Day, everyone.

Do you ever have one of those dreams where if someone didn't mention something to remind you of it, it would be totally lost from your memory forever?  That happened to me tonight when I was out with some friends watching a game 7 in the NHL playoffs for my Chicago Blackhawks where someone made mention of the "Anchorman" sequel.  I was suddenly reminded that last night I had a dream that Ron Burgandy was titty-fucking Veronica Cornerstone.  I wasn't even in the dream - it was actually Will Ferrel and his penis doing that exact sex act and me just watching like in a movie.  In all honesty, even if I wasn't directly involved, it was still pretty hot.

Stage Direction: Three friends are watching the Chicago Blackhawks game in the corner of a bar at a Northside watering hole

Layne: God bless America! Who in the hell ripped ass in here?

John: Totally not me. I'd tell you.

Layne: True. He'd tell the whole bar. Feck, how could you just just rip like that? We're breathing here!

Feck: It's not me. I know I'm leaning like this against the bar with my ass sticking out like I'm blasting one out there, but you know I just don't like to sit down. It's my AD/HD.

Layne: Well someone fucking unloaded in here, and it wasn't me.

All three suddenly become engrossed with the happenings of the TV as Blackhawks go on a two on one break . . .

All Three: Goooooooal! Yeah!

John: Yeah! This series is over. We got this.

Feck: Totally, but . . . what's that . . . Jesus! It stinks like the worst butt ever in here!

Layne: Okay, that time it was me. I admit it.

Feck: Yes, I knew it! Yuck! And that last one was you because it smelled precisely like this one.

Layne: Well, that's because we're all eating the same pizza - thus the same product.

Feck: No, dumb ass, it's got nothing to do with the fuel going in - it all smells like the same stinky anus: yours!

John: This is a disgusting conversation. Can we just plug our noses, close our mouths, and sit quietly like this for the next 34 seconds, which is roughly how long it took Layne's last fart to subside?