Connecticut Hockey Fan

I grew up in Hartford, Connecticut, and watching the Carolina Hurricanes, the former Hartford Whalers, win the Stanley Cup was like watching an ex-girlfriend get married.

Now, without a team, a hockey vagabond, rink rat (“You guys need fans?”), I watch with an analytical, but unbiased eye. And it sucks. I find that I no longer root for a team with the passion I once had.

Oh I came close last year. I was screaming at my TV when Parise knocked in a rebound with seconds left in the US-Canada game, and cursing like a drunken sailor when Sid the Kid (of all people) scored the winning OT goal. I watched the World Juniors, and that too was amazing. But regular nights, I flip through games, watching individual players, lines, coaches, power plays, break-outs, dump and chase and cycle, cycle, cycle. I root for playmakers; David Krejci (the cog in the Bruins offense), Nick Backstrom, and Crosby (who I dislike on principle, but admire his passing). 

You guys know what “hot sauce” is? It's when someone throws a wicked sick Saucer pass, which is an airborne pass that lands on the ice on the tape of a teammate's stick. I witnessed Malkin pass to Gonchar last year from the corner to the point: the pass was chest high through the slot, and landed flat as a pancake right at Gonchar's stick. As if that wasn't sick enough, he did it on his backhand. You can't see something like that on TV unless they move down to ice level, and as a player, let me tell you, it is hard, no really fucking hard to do, and brilliant to see. Guys who can dish out hot sauce on a regular night are amazing.

I hate the Flyers, yet due to Fantasy auto draft I have Briere and Carter on my team. Oh and I dropped Giguere because the Leafs are playing, well, like the Leafs, so I picked up Bobby the Goalie, and well now I have to root for a team I hate. Why was my fantasy hockey team on auto draft? Because 15 minutes before it started, a friend asked me to sub in on his team, and when I told him I had a Fantasy draft that night, he asked if I was really going to play fake sports over real sports. So I went and played, and my first round pick took Backstrom over Stamkos (stupid stupid stupid) and it just went downhill from there.

So now I root for the Flyers, who have decided to become really good ever since their coach accused them of being a bunch of pussies (to the media no less).

I also root for Jonny Quick, LA's goaltender who is a CT native. I play in men's league with guys who played against him. He was not a fun goalie to shoot against. Oh and across the county is Ducks rookie Nick Bonino who I had the pleasure of skating against a few times in pick up in West Hartford. Bonino was one of those guys who was always in control of the game. He would play down to your level, then take it just a notch above, so you always thought you had a chance to take the puck from him, when in reality you never did. You should look this kid who, since two years ago he had a REDICULOUS goal and assist for BU in the NCAA championship game. Down 4-2 with less than a minute left, Bonino scored a goal to make it 4-3. On the next faceoff, he got the puck to the BU captain who tied it. They won in overtime.

We got to see him again play for the Syracuse Crunch a few weeks ago when they came to Hartford to play the Wolfpack. Down 1-0 with under a minute left, Syracuse put in Bonino, who ended up with the puck in the corner. While getting hacked like a tree in a room full of lumber jacks, he sent a ridiculous pass to to the point, who fired in a slapshot and the Crunch won in overtime. Now it looks like Bonino is back full time with the Ducks. One of the few good things to come out of Farmington, Connecticut, other than yours truly.

So I guess hockey isn't dead here, but we are still the punk rock of sports. Connecticut natives do have someone other than Chris Drury (since Leetch retired) to root for. Maybe well get lucky, and Bonino and Quick can bring back the Whalers to Hartford, captain the team to a Stanley Cup win (I wont say Dynasty). Haha, that would be a hoot. But this isn't a Jennifer Aniston romantic comedy, and the girlfriend doesn't come back in the end. Bitch.