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Some Thoroughly Unpleasant… People

Last night I played my first hockey game of the season, and my team's second. Last year we got off to a slow start, built as a team, and finished second in the league to a team that, this season, is playing in a better league.

We had a spirited rivalry with another team, the "Penguins," a team with a few unsavory players. Beating them in the playoffs was perhaps our high for the year.

Our low for the year was playing against "Lifestar," an all-women team. We beat them a time or two, but even those experiences were unpleasant. Not only are their players some of the dirtiest in our non-checking league, they're also some of the whiniest little babies this side of, well, whiny little babies.

Unfortunately, the players aren't the worst of it ((Though if you click the link towards the end, you'll read a nice little story about one player flipping the bird after spearing our goalie in the neck. Lovely.)). No, they're like a ray of sunshine compared to their "fans," who come out in droves, and root caustically for their team and against the others. Vulgarities, rude gestures, and all manner of classless behavior exist among the stands when the "Lifestar" team is on the ice.

And for what? This is a recreational hockey league. I don't have a problem with talking trash between teams (though I generally ignore the other teams in favor of talking trash with my own teammates), and I really don't care much if some butch chicks want to hold onto our forwards the entire game (though it's still pretty obnoxious to whine about stuff while breaking the rules yourselves constantly). What bothers me, though, is that in this recreational league, parents who are playing can't bring their wives, girlfriends, sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, or children to the games played against Lifestar for fear that they'll need to plug their ears the whole time and pray to the deity of their choice.

Last night we played Lifestar yet again, losing 2-1 (though one of our legit goals was waived off for reasons we'll never understand), and the behavior was the same.

So classless. So many better things in life to worry about, but c'mon, ladies: do you not happen to see the five-year-olds in the stands? Carey and I learned last year that it's not even worth trying to watch any game we play against Lifestar - she just stays home.