Tonight I went to the final Whitecaps game at Empire field before they move to their new stadium. They lost to the Seattle Sounders in a shoot-out, 3-1. Sounds more like a hockey score, I know.
This was my first live soccer game. I was completely fascinated. Not so much by the gameplay—I know it’s cliche, but I find the game to be slow. Although I’m amazed at the talent and footwork out there.
I was more fascinated by the crowds. Fan participation in soccer is so organized, so active. I felt like the whole evening people were telling jokes in another language and I never knew when or what the punchline was. The chants, the songs, the rhythms—all so foreign to me. And man do people get into it. That part makes it fun.
Overall I enjoyed the evening. Best chant I heard was a follow-up to a group of Seattle fans who were chanting “U-S-A”, a group replied with “We have healthcare, we have healthcare!”
Can’t really argue with that.
As I emerged from the bathtub this evening, I was greeted by this monstrosity, scuttling towards me at a speed I call “holy shit fast”. Not deterred by my naked status, I grabbed a towel and leaped into action. (more…)
It’s been a long time since I challenged myself to learn something new that I have absolutely zero skills in, so now seems like a good time. With that, I’m going to learn to play hockey.
I’ve been a fan for many years, so I already know the rules and high level strategy. My first obstacle will be that I can’t skate. Well, actually, that’s not entirely accurate. If we all agree that skating is the act of moving in a forward motion on a thin metal blade, then I can skate. I can’t, however, stop, and from everything I understand about hockey, stopping is a relatively important skill.
So this winter, I’m going to join the other rejects of the world in some adult skating classes. We’ll wear helmets and goofy grins, and push chairs around with great enthusiasm. Then, once my skating skill level has reached that of a young awkward child, I’ll enroll in some powerskating and skills classes to develop skills resembling that of a talentless hockey player.
And if I get that far without giving up, next winter I’ll join a women’s hockey team, where my foul mouth will be hailed as harsh yet innovative. I figure between that and riding a motorcycle, there will be little doubt in anyone’s mind that I *must* be a lesbian. Jer will be referred to as my “beard”—a title I’ll have to refute in hockey style brawls.
As I’m sure most of the world knows by now, Vancouver has had an emotional couple of days. It all started with the jubilation of reaching game seven of the Stanley Cup final against a team that had quickly become the arch nemesis of both the Canucks and their fans. I felt confident that the Canucks were going to win, just as I felt confident that win or lose, the aftermath of the game wouldn’t resemble the events of the 1994 Cup loss. I was wrong on both counts. (more…)
© Leigh Peterson
