Hip Czech

I've rediscovered my joy for hockey this year. I'm not really sure why, but I've been watching more and more games this season and I'm starting to remember everything I originally liked about the sport.

When I was younger, I got into hockey to check out this "Great Gretzky" dude. This was in the days prior to the San Jose Sharks, so there wasn't much local coverage of the sport, to say the least. Thanks to the emergence of cable TV, I was able to eventually unearth some Edmonton Oilers games. And man, were those Oiler teams amazing. There was a collection of soon-to-be Hall of Fame players on the team and the high level of play made understanding the game really easy.

Sure, as a California native who had snow fall on his head exactly twice in his life to that point, there were still some things that took time. Icing. I mean, the game is played on ice. Aren't you always icing the puck? And offsides. I don't get it. I still don't. I get the rule, but not the purpose. Dude is too far ahead of everyone else. So? Can you imagine basketball without the fastbreak?

But watching Gretzky as a 12-year old was like listening to Jimi Hendrix for the first time. There was what everyone else was doing and then "who the hell is this guy?!" Michael Jordan not withstanding, I don't think I've seen a player single-handedly dominate his sport the way Gretzky did. Game after game–sometimes shift after shift–Gretzky would make a play and I'd think, "how in the living name of Zeus did he do that?" I immediately wanted to learn more and more about the sport so I could more deeply appreciate Gretzky's incomprehensible skill.

At length, the San Jose Sharks were formed and hockey started appearing locally on TV with more frequency. I instantly felt superior as I was far ahead of the learning curve most newly christened Sharks fans were experiencing. My sports loves were baseball and football in first, then basketball, then hockey. By the time the Sharks were born, basketball and hockey were tied.

At some point, because of games falling off the ESPN map and an occasional work stoppage, my interest in hockey waned. I didn't think much of it at first. It was a star-crossed lovers thing, I thought. Hockey and a kid from California–we're not meant to be together. We're from different worlds. They don't even sell Molson or Labatt's in my grocery store.

But this year, for some reason, I've started watching hockey with more regularity. And I'm happy. I've had time to remember why I liked it in the first place. Part of that rediscovery has been the play of Sharks rookie Tomas Hertl (say it like you're trying to silence someone...Toma-shhhh). Just search YouTube for Tomas Hertl, New York Rangers and you'll see what I mean. Hertl certainly isn't the best player for the Sharks and I by no means mean to compare him to Gretzky. However, there is a bit of flair and style in his game that makes you remember the game is fun and it's played by really skilled athletes.

Here's an example: Hockey is played on a slippery surface, with guys wearing footwear that consists of a thin blade, carrying sticks and playing against people trying to knock them over. They can skate nearly as fast backwards as forwards and move as efficiently on ice and skates as the rest of us move on dry land. All the while, they engage in the activities–checking, passing and shooting–that comprise a sport that people can watch, follow and enjoy. If a drop a sweat falls on the floor in basketball, they stop the game and mop it up. That's how hard it is to play on a slick surface.

Hertl's play is fun. It's enjoyable. Like Gretzky, he periodically does something that makes you say, how the...? (Get to the YouTube video yet?) What's more important, Hertl not only makes me remember what I like about hockey, he helps me remember what I like about sports in general–that they're universal. Hertl is from the Czech Republic. He speaks next to no English. He's fluent in hockey and communicates just fine with his teammates. Czechs play hockey the same way Americans and Canadians and Russians and Swedes and everyone else does. Same with basketball. Same with soccer. Same with baseball. We don't speak the same language, have the same customs, eat the same foods, govern in the same way or have the same type of currency. But we play sports the same way. And as each day goes by and people find ways to shoot others to pieces or blow up buildings, it's hard to feel hopeful about anything. But when I imagine the rock being thrown by a Palestinian is a baseball being thrown to an Israeli soldier and the two are playing catch, it makes my hope grow just a little. And if that's all my love of sports gives me, I'll take it.