Remember the Four Loko – that putrid acid that even further deepened our degenerate status at the time? Those were the days, when vomit-graced garbage cans and alcoholic breakfasts made sense. The only thing that makes sense these days is that food, toilets and The Walking Dead marathons are feverishly needed to get through each day.
Like the infamous Four Loko, this year’s NHL Winter Classic seemed to lack the same flash it once had. Once the segue between NHL and non-NHL fans, the Winter Classic offered a new, inspiring perspective on a niche sport that seemed moments from media explosion. It could engage new fans and smoothly introduce them to the game of hockey.
Now it seems like the NHL’s tech startup feel has transformed into stale Original Six has-been.
Personally, the ebb and flow of seasonal New York Islanders failure has never kept me from being glued to the blue line – visually yearning for broken noses and concussive open-ice checks.. it doesn’t get more honest.
So where’s the hockey love? Where’s the stench of blue-collar hunger for fair violence?
Seems as though our once-tough community of sports fans isn’t willing to give hockey another try. Isn’t willing to watch toothless psychopaths with the softest hands slam each other with sticks. Their loss.