Advance #67: My Sweet Ice Princes

Late last week as I scanned the outer reaches of my 10% of a neighbor's spliced Comcast (thanks, Shep!), I was treated for the very first time to the brutal, yet surprisingly sensual, game of what Wisconsin locals are apparently calling "Ice Hockey."

Yes, up around Channel 6000, in between a telenovella and racy Brazillian threesome sat a most curious offering: the Columbus Blue Jackets "hockey" squad tangling with something called the Florida Panthers.

At first, I was awestruck by the sheer complexity of following a small black orb around a spacious ice surface in what strongly resembled a broken loop from the watershed, ahead-of-its-time Chris Klein/JJ Cool J masterpiece Rollerball.

But as I looked closer, I saw a regal, majestic bloodsport of the highest order--one that made MMA look like a tea party. (No, the more cerebral kind.)

I witnessed testosterone-fueled duels featuring odd curved fiberlass mallets in place of swords. I gazed upon figure skaters in bulky blue and red separates plowing each other as if possessed by the Prince of Lies himself. And I was treated to comely 20 year old college students in clingy spandex shoveling white residue away once every 10 minutes. Which, coincidentally, factors in some manner into fully 1/3 of my conscious thoughts.

Where has this game been all of my life?

In the end, the Blue Jackets triumphed when a kid who looked a lot like my paperboy back in Phoenix flicked the black rubber into a netting. It was beautiful, and inspired me to resolve to watch all future Columbus Blue Jackets games. A quick scan assures me that they'll be on at least two more times before 2014. I'll even try and catch one live if I ever get down to Georgia.

And if I do Denny will be there, standing proudly alongside the most awesome mascot in the history of American sport.

#1 Fan,
Denny DelVecchio