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Un asilo para el hockey subalimentado

Los días más fríos calientan lo más mejor posible mi corazón del hockey

Becoming a hockey player is rarely a fleeting, half-hearted venture. Perhaps that’s why this sport is played with so much heart.

Al MacInnis was the first honoree last night to acknowledge the role of family in his greatness, and as the first-ever Nova Scotian to be enshrined (incredible, that), he made sure that his extended family members in Port Hood knew of their role in his career. They had a place in the Hall of Fame, too, he said.

It was heartening to hear Scott Stevens testify to the impact he felt from his eight years in the Washington Capitals’ family. He thanked David Poile and Bryan Murray from management, and his defensive partner Brian Engblom. He characterized his tenure in town as “a period of growth” and alluded to being a part of the first Capitals’ team to qualify for the postseason — the first of seven straight such in D.C. he was a part of. And he thanked Capitals’ fans for their support.

The tear machine that is Mark Messier of course had ample reflections on the role of family in his career. He had ample reflections period, obliterating the prescribed four minutes for remarks with rambling incoherence that nearly outlasted his career. What if he’d been wearing a tuxedo system designed by Reebok amid all that sobbing?

Messier’s frequent pregnancy-long pauses allowed me to rememeber that at one time his family was reputed to have included Madonna. I rather delight in hockey’s figures of towering talent, their origins in towns of hundreds, their modesty unmatched in or out of professional sports, dalliance-ing with American starlet strumpets. That of course is the exception to the more mundane extension of family in this sport. Hockey players never forget their roots, or lose their attachment to them.