Maybe it's because the Bee Sharps haven't played a "traditional" Saturday night game in sometime, and thus, I have to find other things to do on Saturday nights. Anyone who plays in the ERHL knows what Saturday nights at the ol' K of C Arena are like. The rink is full of life, with players coming, going, scoring, and falling (mostly falling). And all the time, out in the lobby, that little black and white TV set sits, pumping out 3 watts of Hockey Night in Canada action as best as its battered aerial can muster. If our beloved Oilers happened to be playing while we're getting ready for our own game, a couple of us would pop out and watch the game for a spell, twisting our eyes in a desperate attempt to make out a player or two (forget trying to see the puck) through the curtain of static that stands for the best a coat hanger antenna can produce these days. Usually, the most one can decipher is the scoreboard in the top corner of the screen, almost always not in the Oilers' favour. But there is a certain romanticism to the whole thing, a sort of common link to those fans of the 1950s who crowded around their 7" television sets, swathed in the eerie, radioactive glow that manifested itself in the form of the Montreal Canadiens or, saints forefend, the Toronto Maple Leafs.
Where do we go for our hockey fix now? Well, I finally managed to make it out to an Edmonton Road Runners game recently. This is not Don Cherry's AHL anymore. There were kids' games on the Jumbotron, the opportunity to throw a large selection of orange prize pucks onto the ice, and a giant inflatable Road Runner head that was quickly set up for the Runners to skate through upon their arrival onto the ice (the illusion spoiled immeasurably by the arena crew dragging out the fully deflated head in full view and in complete illumination prior to the ceremony). There was even a hockey game, which was only moderately entertaining, like the on-ice "product" that it was replacing. I reasoned that the main difference between the AHL and the NHL is that once players are too good for the AHL, they get promoted to the big leagues. As a result, all AHL rosters are left with are 20-23 infuriatingly similar players, and Tony Hrkac. To further sour my first Road Runners experience, the next home game for the team was being billed as "Faith and Family Night", complete with a religious motivational speaker waxing his diatribe at buzzer's end. Not only has the NHL been punted from the hallowed halls of Rexall Place, but Edmonton's hockey shrine has now been annexed by George Bush's America, at least for one night.
So, instead of actually paying to go watch hockey games, I am finding myself attending more and more ERHL games. The price is right, I almost always get a good seat, and the game result usually means more to me than any afore-mentioned Minnesota-Colorado games could affect me (North Stars vs Rockies, let alone Avalanche vs Wild). Last week, I saw a rag tag bunch of cast-offs called the Ice Hawks win their first game in their young history, a thrilling 6-5 overtime win over the Souls. Now, what could be more uplifting than that?
Well, a Bee Sharps/Edmonton Oilers double Saturday night victory, for old times' sake.
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