Hockey and music and finding the game where you least expect it.

I spent the past 2 weeks or so on holiday in Costa Rica. It was without hyperbole a truly life changing trip and one that I would recommend to anyone. The place that we stayed was intermixed with locals and expats, living at very different areas of the financial spectrum and it left me a changed and more enlightened person. But that is a different story for a different day.

This is a story of finding hockey in the most unusual of places and my personal link between hockey and music and how it all came full circle. For those of you that have been along for the ride from the beginning you know that I came to hockey at first in a desert environment, well before the NHL expansion to the sunbelt and after the WHA team nearest me, The Golden Seals, died an untimely death. I was brought into the fold of this great game of ours by a friend, Jason. He taught me the ropes and was there for my first bendy attempts at skating and we played a hell of a lot of street and living room hockey. Luckily no lamps or televisions were ever broken. 

We came of age together at a time in which the rebellious attitude and music of Punk, all varieties was also coming of age. The music filled our ears and hearts with the fire and fervor of these people, Jello Biafra and the Dead Kennedys,  Wendy O. Williams and the Plasmatics, The Ramones, Henry Rollins and Black Flag and countless others screaming against and thumbing their collective nose at the establishment, the "man" if you will. Because of this, the relationship with hockey, Jason and music is inextricably linked. 

That scene plays itself out in a number of ways. Each day I wake up with a song stuck in my head and throughout my hockey life, I generally play with the strains of a song woven through my brain, intermixed with the stick taps, ice scrapes and chirps that make up the auditory input of this great game. Not to mention the music often played on the rink PA systems. From some discussions that I have had with teammates, I am not alone in this.  

At this point you are likely asking yourself, OK what does this have to do with a holiday in Costa Rica? On the holiday I was lamenting missing the Sunday night Beginners drop in at my local rink and camaraderie of the boys and girl that make up our crew, while re-reading Dave Bidini's: Tropic of Hockey, a book about finding hockey in unusual places. I was chatting with my wife and kids, my daughter also plays, and we decided to visit a local restaurant/bar, El Chivo for a birthday dinner and beer. As we walked in the bar was playing the Ramones, Beat on the Brat. As we sat down, my eyes caught the familiar sight of a red and white Canada pennant and then the Tex-Mex poutine on the menu. With that, it all came full circle. The music, hockey and relationships that we form in this sport drive our desire to play this game, as much as the machinations and strategy of the game. So, whether   your jam is Stomping Tom Connors, The Smugglers, Chopin or the Monkees, stick taps to you and good luck on your journey. 

I'd love to see your comments about whether this happens to you and if so, what is playing in your head, in your earphones before the game or inspires you?

Take care, be well!

- Daniel