The Dubious Monk

On Friday after Kate was done with her grading and meetings and stuff we went to a graduation reception for her friends in the MA stream of her program. I sat around awkwardly listening to people talk about grant money and human research subject forms and how all they really needed was to change a couple of words from previous applications to get them through. Ah science. The thing lasted an hour though with no sign of beginning, which was nice as I didn’t have to listen to people I didn’t know get recognized for their achievements and was free to munch on veggie wontons, but bad because this was the West Coast and the hockey game was soon to begin. Thankfully Kate didn’t feel bad about ditching it. One of the “to be honoured” guys told her to leave, that he wouldn’t be there if he didn’t have to be. So off we went.

We watched Pittsburgh and Detroit at a sports bar right near Kate’s apartment. Sat at the bar with the other hockey fans of which I was glad to find there were a handful more than us. Through the whole game I had to talk a lot so as not to let the tension build up too high. I really wanted to see Pittsburgh win and Crosby get his first Cup and if I was just completely focused on the game I would have died from stress. Marc Andre Fleury does not let me enjoy a hockey game. In the third period with Pittsburgh up by two Detroit was putting on more pressure and I realized the last three minutes were going to be insane. And then Detroit scored. If I had been at home I might have had to leave the room, but I was in public and forced to watch Detroit hit the post and Fleury make a couple of game savers in the last minute before cheering my fool head off.

One of the funny things about watching the game there was that just on the other side of Kate were two girls who were there to watch Pittsburgh win and just on the other side of me were a couple of guys looking to hit on these girls. They wedged themselves in between Kate and the girls in the first period but were shot down. Later on Kate passed on a note from the guys “to the blonde one, not the dark-haired one.” Eventually the guys left. There were a couple of guys in the bar wearing Penguins jerseys (with Crosby and Lemieux on the backs) and one of them had a black eye and a couple of cuts on his face. I thought, “Now there’s a hockey fan who’s also a hockey player” but it was Los Angeles and I am sure he could have found a good makeup person to do that to add authenticity to his ensemble.

I was glad to see Crosby lift up the Cup, and this was the first time in years I’ve watched all the subsequent parading the Cup around the ice (last time was probably when Ray Bourque finally won it with the Avalanche). It felt really good to see Mario out there hoisting it too.

After the game we were happy and Tiago picked us up to go for Thai food. Inexpensive delicious Thai food. Kate and I had made a bet beforehand and the loser was to buy dinner. I didn’t have faith in the kids, I’m sad to say (and when I say “the kids” I mean “Marc Andre Fleury”) so the meal was my treat. And well worth it.