Happy Father’s Day everyone and thanks all who who entered. Check out the much anticipated contest drawing below starring my Dad. I’ll be in touch with the two winners and send along your gift cards.
Hey you, fellow Hockey Dad; time to give yourself a pat on the back for all you do for your kids in and out of hockey season, which for some never really ends. Or hey…you kids, moms or significant others…make sure you don’t forget about dear old Dad, hubby or your other half, this weekend. Praise this blessed, over-worked, under-paid soul for…
- all the early morning drives to rinks in the middle of nowhere with or without the benefit of a GPS
- the countless dollars spent on overpriced twigs even an eight year old can snap
- the damage done to vocal cords during the course of a three-day, six-game tournament
- the meals missed when running from the office through traffic, in the door, out the door and off to the arena over a hour away for a 7pm puck drop
- the sleepless nights during league playoffs for those poor souls who decide coaching their kids would be a good idea too
- the time he played poker and swilled whiskey until 5am, but then still managed to be on the ice for a 7am practice with 5 year olds who a had better sense of balance and grasp on reality (ok, perhaps not a commendable moment by some people’s standards)
- the callouses formed from triple knotting skate laces at least a gazillion times
- the frozen feet from standing in a sub-arctic barns run by diabolical ice makers
I think you all get the picture and can likely relate to most of these if you’ve been involved in minor, and particularly rep, hockey for any extended period of time. We hockey dads do our fair share of running around and heavy lifting.
My friends at McDonalds Canada (and yes, I’ve visited them enough times over the years on the way to or from practices or games that I can confidently call them my friends, if not, my dear friends) have offered me a couple of $25 gift cards to share with my deserving readers. In order to snag one of these coveted plastic joy inducers/hunger abaters, you need only share in the comments below (in 100 words or less), why you, your Hockey Dad, Hockey Husband or Hockey Life Partner, is the Best Damn Hockey Dad there is. Come to think of it, I don’t even care if there is necessarily a hockey affiliation at all. Why don’t we just honour all Sports Dads in general. Any old flavour of Dad who is deserving will do. So let us know what makes you or yours special. If you’re too self-effacing, make sure you pass this to your kids.
The contest, open to Canadians only this time around, will close at 5pm on Father’s Day and I will do a random draw for two lucky winners shortly thereafter.
There is no doubt lots of good that can and should be said about your old man, so here’s your chance to do it, and maybe get a Big Mac and fries or a new McWrap for your efforts. I look forward to hearing about why you or your Dad’s the very best.
I finally found some free quiet time yesterday morning to sit down (or rather lay back) and read former President of Hockey Calgary, Todd Millar’s, book dramatically and appropriately titled Moron.
The premise of the book, which begins with a Wikipedian definition of the word “moron”, is that minor hockey in Canada is being ruined by a small minority of “moronic” hockey parents and action must be taken to protect the game we all love for our kids’ sake. The author identifies six main problem areas: Safety, Fair Play, Bullying, Respect, Volunteerism and Adult Behaviour.
Off the top, I will say I agree with at least 95% of what Mr. Millar has written, I applaud his candor and I think this book should be required reading for every hockey parent. As I’ve written here many times before, I’ve certainly witnessed and interacted with a few of the morons to whom the author is referring. And yes, I too will admit to having worn what Mr. Millar calls the Moron Helmet (as he himself did), a time or two. However, I believe upon reflection we were both quickly able to see the error in our ways. Not all morons are so self-aware.
I am sure Mr. Millar is heartened by Hockey Canada’s recent decision to ban body-checking at the Peewee level as this issue is likewise a central theme and perhaps the primary driver behind this book’s genesis. He resigned from his position as president of Hockey Calgary following a “moron” laced blog post he wrote back on April 30, 2012 out of frustration with his organization’s inability to pass the same body checking ban, which has now come to fruition. The entire book actually reads like an epilogue to the minor hockey news of the past couple of months.
In the book, Mr. Millar clearly and passionately talks about the importance of respect and fair play in hockey; two common sense notions not always ascribed to by the previously mentioned minority. He writes frankly about problems with misguided volunteerism, sometimes corrupt, elitist competitive hockey leagues and the need for coordinated top-down/bottom-up changes. With the Boy and the Devil having played rep hockey for the last 13+ years and having been involved with our local associations, hockey Momma and I can both readily relate to the points he’s raised. Sometimes you just shake your head and say, How the hell can that person do that? Don’t they realize how stereotypical they are and that everyone is pointing and laughing, whether quietly or out loud?
I applaud the author for writing this book and further illuminating major issues in minor hockey. Recent media attention would indicate there is something of a groundswell of change underway in the sport where body checking, concussions and parental behaviour are concerned. Many associations across the country are mandating parents take rinkside behaviour courses, with Windsor Minor Hockey being the latest. But I do challenge Mr. Millar’s assertion this problem is most prevalent in hockey. He states in the final chapter “It’s not present as much in other sports, or at all.” I beg to differ from past and recent experience. Just last weekend in my hometown the police needed to be called to a local soccer field to break up a 30-person parent fight after one soccer dad apparently hurled a racial slur at an opposing black family. I can vividly recall coaching the Boy in a rep soccer game at the age of 6 and witnessing an opposing soccer coach berating a player (I would realize later is was his own son no less) to the point of tears. In my very last post, I mentioned witnessing a kid/parent mini-brawl at a charity street hockey tournament. You need only watch a single episode of Toddlers and Tiaras or Dance Moms to see the height or, better put depth, of moronism in modern society in general. Apparently, Moron Helmets can be and are readily purchased at Walmart by any Tom, Dick or Mary. A growing disregard for respect is a larger societal issue. Moronic parental behaviour stems from a general breakdown in human morals. It’s not just a hockey problem, it’s a human problem. (Hang on a sec, is this me or my father ranting?). So what do we do about it? This is obviously a much bigger issue, but having people like Mr. Millar getting stuff out into the open for a sport like hockey, exposing the morons and empowering the rest of us to stand up to them out loud is a positive start. I certainly do encourage other hockey parents to give the book a read and then consider handing it to the next moron you encounter at a rink, field or dance competition.
Last weekend, the Boy, a few of my buddies (including another father-son duo) and I made our annual, but perhaps final for now, pilgrimage to the Walter Gretzky Street Hockey Tournament. A tourney held in the hometown of the man known in hockey circles simply as The Great One and his almost as famous Hockey Dad. What better place for fathers and sons to play some puck and ball together. Coming off a stellar result, going undefeated and technically finishing in 5th place overall following the round robin in the Adult Rec division last year, our cobbled together group of half young lads and half well-seasoned veterans like yours truly, long ago dubbed STICK U, were optimistic about our chances of showing well again. With the possibility of having a Friday night game, I had booked a hotel room for two nights with the tourney being located nearly two hours from home. As it turned out, all of our games were scheduled for Saturday, which afforded some of us the opportunity to spend Friday night “preparing” for the challenge ahead. And how better for finely tuned athletic machines to prepare than with two large pizzas, a couple of frosty beverages and a few pressure-packed rounds of hardly high stakes Texas Hold’em. I personally enjoyed the first two a bit more than the third.
We woke early and just raring to go for our 11am game against a seemingly erstwhile side called the Sausage Runners.
One notable thing about Adult Rec Men’s sports teams is the variety of creative monikers, though many follow a common and predictably, sexually-oriented theme. Among my favourites in no particular order this year were Zidlicky My Balls, My Balls Your Chin, Multiple Scoregasms, Hamilton Phat Cocks, The Guts cuz it sounds mean and Kane’s Taxi Squad for the NHL Playoffs tie-in. The obvious testicularity of many of these male-constructed labels is troubling to be certain. A catchy name and homage to The Great one from a previous tourney worth noting was I Promised Mess I Wouldn’t Do This.
Surely, we’d be able to get off to a quick start against a team with a questionable nickname like Sausage Runners, which itself may be anatomical in nature. After a brief sighting of the tournament’s namesake (yup, Walter wanders the grounds giving interviews, taking pictures and signing autographs) and witnessing a brawl in one of the younger divisions, which spilled over into the spectating parents (cuz that’s what you expect to see at a just-for-fun charity tournament), STICK U faced-off against foe number one. We could tell early on the Sausage Runners were a little more dangerous than their lime green t-shirts and silly sobriquet suggested. They scored a couple of quick markers on the Boy’s uncle (who only stands between the pipes once a year, but you’d never know it) which we answered with goals of our own. However, we found ourselves down 4-2 halfway through the 20 minute contest. Their lead would be extended by a phantom goal the ref claimed went off the centre post, but made the unmistakable sound of striking the cross bar. STICK U would battle back to make the game 6-5 only to see a two-goal lead regained and held till the conclusion. An 0-1 start would demand back-to-back victories, if we hoped to play at least one more on Sunday.
While the primary focus of such a weekend is ball hockey, the time after and betwixt games has certainly provided some highlights. This time is typically spent in lawn chairs or on beer laden coolers back behind our vehicles with tunes playing and non-stop laughter evoked by new and old stories only guys appreciate. Being well-seasoned we upped the post-game ante this year with a couple of bbqs, lump charcoal, applewood chips, thoroughly marinated chicken wings, halved limes and home-made bbq sauce prepared lovingly by a teammate. To say the by-product of these ingredients was to die for would be a severe understatement. The Boy quipped they even rivaled hockey momma’s Portuguese chicken, a longstanding family favourite also prepared over a charcoal grill.
After a feed of wings, a couple of burgers, a distinct depletion of the cooler contents and a realization of the advancing age of a few, several amongst us were hard-pressed to leave the comfort of tailgating to play a second game. But a squad called simply Awesome awaited our challenge, so off we went. The Boy surmised a team who called themselves Awesome, likely weren’t. Arriving at the designated “rink” for our next match, we found a ragtag group not unlike our own; except we had a bit of a young guy advantage we hoped to capitalize on. Perhaps the highlight of this game, beyond it being a 5-2 victory for the good guys, was the first occurrence of a full father-son line. The 4-on-4 format allowed for me, my buddy and our Boys to collaborate against an opposing foursome; a cool and memorable opportunity to be sure.
Our spirits were buoyed by having evened our record at 1-1; thereby giving ourselves a chance to advance with a repeat win. A loss would signal an early tourney exit. After a bit more tailgating with just enough time for muscles to start seizing up, we would be tasked with facing a team we suspected would be strong; though they hadn’t come up with a more imaginative name than Topper’s Pizza. As it turned out, some of their side were holding their pre-final game prep session right next to ours. We naturally encouraged them to get their fill of libations or to maybe even consider forfeiture, since they’d already won two matches on the day. What we didn’t fully realize in speaking with our foes-to-be was their relative youth. Hell, most of them were probably not even old enough to partake in wobbly pops. We would become well aware the moment the ball was dropped to start our final match. I won’t repeat the final score, but suffice it to say, our weary legs were no match for those of our counterparts. Further, we agreed this team passed the ball and generally played at least one level above Adult Rec calibre, in which we were firmly entrenched. It leaves one to question what satisfaction a bunch of 20-somethings get from thoroughly defeating a slightly misfit bunch like ours. Not a tale of conquest I’d want to relay to my friends. Why wouldn’t they want more of a challenge at an appropriate level? With this in mind, we’ve pondered finding another tourney to enter next year, though my guess is we’ll find our fair share of sandbaggers there as well. One thing is certain — STICK U will rise again.
Regardless the outcome of our last game and the tournament-ending death knell it dealt a disappointed STICK U contingent, I’m fairly confident the overall experience was positive. We’d cap the two-day junket with a team dinner at a local watering hole, watching the first two games of the third round of the NHL Playoffs, a few more drinks to drown our sorrows and a return to the Texas Hold’em table to recoup, in my case supplement, past losses.
We would rise the following morning with aching muscles, yet a burning desire to play at least one more game, undoubtedly fueled by the perception of having been wronged to some degree a mere 16 hours earlier. The drive home would be bittersweet and long enough for the aforementioned old muscles to seize up just a little more making the climb from the car a painful proposition. A text from a teammate had earlier bluntly declared “I am paralyzed.” After dropping off our two passengers, the Boy turned to quickly say, “Thanks for the weekend Dad.” A simple gesture, but more than enough, coupled with two-days worth of laughs and even a wee bit o’ quasi-exercise, to validate the abbreviated weekend.
With Round 2 of the NHL Playoffs coming to a dramatic close last night, my first contest ended right along with it. This evening, in a random draw from within the bowels of an old bucket, a single name was chosen as the deserving recipient of a much coveted prize pak courtesy Enterprise Rent-a-Car, an official sponsor of the NHL and its teams. Here’s a quick vid of the exciting ceremony.
So congrats to Kevin Francisco. I will grab your mailing address and have the prize pak delivered shortly. For those who are interested, here is the memory he shared (with apologies to Leafs fans, who are likely still stinging from their unbelievable playoff exit this year):
“Obviously its the ’93 Habs playoff run that sticks out in my mind. Not only do you have the Leafs & Habs going deep into the playoffs… you have Gretzky’s no call high stick on Gilmore & his final appearance in the finals. The biggest part of that Hab playoff run was the unbelievable run of OT victories. The Que/Mtl series was one of the best ever with the Habs taking 4 straight after dropping the first two games (2 in OT)… then taking out the hated Sabres in a 4 game sweep where all games finished 4-3 Mtl (3 in OT). 2 more OT victories vs NYI brought them an 11 game win streak before losing game 4. I couldnt believe how awesome this playoff run was going with Roy stealing games all over the place! I was actually looking forward to a Mtl/Tor final (how awesome would that have been?!), but had to settle for watching them beat Gretzky & Co in the finals with another fantastic 3 OT wins. 10 OT wins en route to Cup 24!! Too bad they havent won one since – but that was just such a ridiculous string of OT wins, it has to be one of the best playoff runs in history.”
This was just one of many great playoff stories I was very impressed and appreciative to receive over the last couple of weeks all of which you can find in the comments of my contest blog, should you be so inclined. Thank you again to all who entered.
Now off we go to the third round series pitting Bruins against Pens and Hawks against defending champion Kings. Both certainly look to have the makings of hard fought, tight scoring classics. I must admit, I’ve been riveted to most every game this playoff season regardless the combatants. Perhaps the shortened regular season has enabled me and many like me to maintain our attention longer, though with 25+ degree temps in the forecast, it may become more and more difficult, but we’ll see. Pretty sure the hockey won’t disappoint.
For me the night started kinda slow. In an odd circumstance, I found myself sitting alone (well almost alone save for good ole man’s best friend) and switching back and forth between two games: the Boston Bruins vs. the Toronto Maple Leafs in the first round of the NHL Eastern Conference playoffs and my hometown Barrie Colts vs. the London Knights in the OHL Finals; and yes, both playing game 7s. One more game 7 was also in progress between the Rangers and Caps, but my ability and willingness to focus across three channels was limited at best. My unfamiliar solitude was due to:
- Hockey Momma fulfilling secretarial duties at our local minor hockey league board meeting, which begs the question..Who holds a meeting during a Game 7?
- the Boy risking his life cheering for the Bruins in a predominantly Maple Leafs-friendly Buffalo Wild Wing. He told me as he left to watch for a text message should the score be headed in a non-Leaf direction and he had no idea how prophetic that statement would be.
- the Devil begrudgingly performing in a school dance recital; a minor commitment she suggested she could “ditch” in favour of watching the pivotal playoff games. You can easily guess who won that school vs. hockey argument, though she made a pretty strong case to her hockey-luvin dad.
So poochie and I enjoyed each other’s company and cheered or booed as the four teams in our two primary games worked their way through their first periods with 1-1 results in each. Game 7s are generally pretty tight contests as neither team is willing to play a wide open game or risk making mistakes; mistakes which could mean vacations at their favourite golf courses.
However, towards the end of the first period in the NHL affair, I answered my ringing phone and was greeted by the desperate voice of one of Hockey Momma’s co-workers. On my way home from work earlier in the day, I was forced to take a detour as my primary route was closed due to a downed hydro pole. It seems the crippled pole was now responsible for power outages in the homes of hundreds or perhaps thousands of rabid hockey fans all around me. The first strike by the Hockey Gods perhaps? Regardless, I naturally offered to share my den and television; the only problem being my new viewing mates were all Leafs fans – then again this never mattered before so why should it now. Shortly after this family of Leaf-lover arrived, they were followed by a Bruins fan to even up the vibe in the house. And just like that, I was hosting a min-playoff party, conveniently equipped by Enterprise Rent-a-Car, a sponsor of the NHL and all of its teams, I might add (more on that below).
Shortly after my impromptu party mates arrival, both games started to get interesting as the bad guys from my humble perspective each scored goals to give them 2-1 leads, which they would take into their respective third periods. Third periods we shant soon forget.
In London, the Colts, missing three of their top forwards, continue to battle tooth and nail squaring the score at 2-2 with just under three minutes left in the third. This Game 7 was most assuredly going to overtime as the clock ticked under one minute then under 30 seconds. But then on a literally last second drive to the net, the puck inexplicably found its way up, over and behind the Colts keeper, who swung at it wildly and knocked it away from the net. The on-ice official waved no-goal, but with 1.1 seconds left on the clock, there would be a video review. Fingers were firmly crossed and quick prayers were issued to the aforementioned Hockey Gods. However, video from an overhead camera told a sad story as we saw the puck float through the air and over the goal line. We waited and hoped our eyes deceived us and the TV commentators. No such luck and the Knights completed a comeback from 3-1 in the series to win the OHL Championship in the absolutely last possible moment of regulation time. Maybe the Colts would have completed the comeback in the game had the buzzer sounded one second sooner or maybe not. One Game 7 ended in despair.
Meanwhile, back in Boston, more inexplicable action ensued as the Leafs proceeded to open up 3-1 and then 4-1 leads with only 15 minutes left in the third. Could it be that the upstart Leafs would serve up a major upset in the first round and send the Bruins packing, much to my dismay? Hockey Momma had returned from her meeting and the Devil from her recital by now. The Boy’s bar safety appeared secure. On TV, you could see some of the less-faithful Bruins fans themselves leaving the building. The Bruins would score with just over 10 minutes left in the game, but a two goal deficit was surely too big to overcome; even for the hardluck Leafs whose ineptitude dates back to the year before I was born. With it being 9:30 on a school night, our friends having younger kids, the game in hand and power apparently restored to their home, the Leaf fans decided to take their leave. As they walked out, I quipped “We’ll have to get together to watch the Leafs play the Rangers in the next round (also to besponsored by Enterprise Rent-a-Car as part of a NHL Playoff giveaway contest).” The Rangers and King Henrik Lundqvist, in the other game 7 were embarrassing the Caps 5-0 in their own rink.
Then the Hockey Gods flexed their muscles and changed the course of history in Boston. The veteran Bruins woke up somewhere around the 15 minute mark of the third, putting sustained pressure on the less experienced Leafs who were trying desperately to hold on to their tenuous two-goal lead. The Bruins, as per standard procedure, pulled their goalie with about two minutes left. A shot from the point with 1:22 on the clock found its way by the Bruins towering defenceman, Zdeno Chara, who installed himself as an immovable fixture in front of the Toronto goal and also by the Leafs’ defenceless keeper. A mere 16 seconds later the Bruins would bury the most incredible Game 7 tying goal in history. With momentum decidedly and understandably on their side, the Bostons (with a few missing fans who were no doubt banging their heads against walls somewhere) completed the biggest comeback ever with a now-anticipated goal in OT; leaving Leafs fans everywhere standing, sitting or lying drop-jawed and numb as the realization of another playoff failure struck them like a bolt of lightning hurled at them by you know who. At my house, we erupted from the couch in awestruck amazement and at Buffalo Wild Wing, da Boy, my progeny, ran and high-fived the few other Boston fans in the joint at the risk of physical peril.
Once the jubilation subsided, I admittedly found myself feeling a touch of sympathy for the Leaf fans, many of whom are my close friends; who sat expectantly in front of their TVs on the verge of heart attacks or who crammed themselves among thousands just outside the Air Canada Centre in Toronto; only to be let down yet again. This morning the feeling returned as I read a great article in Deadspin about the risks of raising your child as a Leafs fan entitled “This Is How Hockey Hurts“. Perhaps I should send the link to my viewing mates, who still have a chance to reprogram their young Leaf fan. Everyone says you need to lose, before you can win, but this was one helluva way to lose. I think a lot of people would have preferred they succumbed to the Big Bad Bruins in Game 6. Or maybe not. I can’t really say, not being a Leaf fan. I can tell you, I’d take a Game 7, win or lose, as a Jets fan.
Just like that, in a matter of a few hours, I’ve yet two more fantastic and not-so-fantastic memories of playoff hockey. Some of those young OHLers were distraught last night, but have plenty to look forward to. Tis the nature of the game. Real-life drama played out in real-time at breakneck speed right before your eyes. And hell, this was only Round One. The rest of the playoffs have a tough act to follow. Chances are we’ll be there watching at the edge of our seats; I type while watching the Kings and Sharks finish their first game of Round Two at 9pm PST – midnight where I’m sitting.
Disclosure: Enterprise Rent-A-Car and the NHL provided me with a gift package to host my watch party as a thank you for writing this post. However, the views and opinions expressed here are purely my own.
Find out about my own #imahockeydad giveaway at http://www.imahockeydad.com/2013/05/11/nhl-playoff-hockey-is-back-giveaway, which is open to entries until the end of Round 2 of the NHL playoffs.
p.s. Just found this link from the NHL to a video montage of 17 overtime game-winning goals from Round 1, which by the way, was a record - Enjoy!
A few months back after the “NHL lockout of which we’ll never speak again” I lamented, nay ranted, at the use of the phrase “Hockey is Back”. After all, for me and so many hockey parents like me, the game we love never went anywhere. However, I and many others didn’t skip a beat in welcoming back the NHL flavour of hockey, which is undoubtedly among the finest in the world. In fact, the condensed 48-game schedule made the games played and watched even that much more exciting as every one had a heightened importance. I’d be in favour of having every season schedule shortened with a Stanley Cup champion crowned sometime in April, though I realize the financial ramifications of such a plan will never see it happen.
But now we’ve entered the second and decidedly more thrilling playoff season. Unfortunately, my beloved Winnipeg Jets were not able to force their way into the dance in the final days of this regular season, but with the Boy’s and Devil’s hockey behind us, my fix will come from watching double overtimes on the left coast until 2am. I don’t just want to….I have to, cuz for us true hockey fans, it’s in the blood don’t ya know. For me it started early on as I recall wearily watching what came to be known as the Easter Epic between Washington and the New York Islanders in 1987, which ended at 1:56am on Easter Sunday. I can still picture Bob Mason standing like he’d been shot after Patty Lafontaine’s winning goal beat him in the 4th overtime of Game 7. This remains the longest Game 7 in NHL history.
And with the first round of this season’s NHL playoffs under way, there has already been no shortage of drama or compelling story lines to keep us fully engaged on the edge of our seats. Ottawa disposed of Montreal in five games, but not without a line brawl and plenty of pugnacity. Just south of me in Toronto, the city has gone wild as their previously sad-sack Leafs are surprisingly holding their own against the Big Bad Bruins. Likewise, the Islanders are giving the Penguins, and particularly their beleaguered goalie Marc Andre Fleury, fits heading into at least a game six. The Minnesotas, who momentarily had to resort to their third string goalie after number one injured himself warming up before game one and number two (who has MS) came up lame as well, were overpowered by a scary, speedy Blackhawks squad. The defending champion LA Kings showed their poise in coming back from a 2-0 deficit to oust the upstart St. Louis Blues with four straight victories. And the Canucks, with their bi-polar goalie problems, exited stage left on the wrong end of San Jose’s broom. The Duck and Red Wings are headed to a Game 7, which may be the only thing better than double overtime. After tonight and tomorrow night, there may yet be a couple more Game 7s to come.
In an effort to aid in my enjoyment and damn-near obsession with all of the playoff hockey yet to come, the fine people at Enterprise Rent-A-Car, an official sponsor and supporter of the NHL and its teams, have graciously provided me with an awesome prize pack, which I will be using in short order to host a friendly little playoff shindig with a few other fans (authorized and possible censored details and pics to follow).
Even better, they’ve offered me an opportunity to share the same with the other fanatics who drop by here from time-to-time. One lucky reader will win:
- a Brookstone Prime Barbeque Kit
- a Coleman 16 qt. Wheeled Cooler
- Mixed nuts to snack on
- a Coby Slim Wall Mountable Sound Bar with Bluetooth Technology
- a $100 Gift Card to use at Shop.NHL.com and,
- some fun Enterprise swag including a couple of stress relievers for when the games get tough and reusable stadium cups to hold beverages of your choosing.
In order to have a chance to win this great prize for your own playoff partay, you need only do three simple things:
- Regale us in the Comments section below with your own favourite NHL playoff memory (yes, even Leaf playoff memories, distant as they may be, are allowed)
- Tell us who you are rooting for in this year’s playoffs
- Provide your email address so I know where to reach you should you win the prize pack
The winner will be decided via random draw and contest entry will close when the final buzzer sounds at the end of the final game in the second round of the 2013 playoffs, so you have lots of time to jar your memory.
In the meantime, you might also want to check out Enterprise’s Hat Trick Challenge online game on NHL.com, where you can play daily to try to predict what happens on the ice or create private leagues and compete against your friends. I’ve signed in and its a pretty cool concept giving you more reasons to cheer, should your own beloved team also be watching from the sidelines.
So Good Luck, Happy Cheering and Go Team (My New Fave Yet to be Decided) Go!
Disclosure: Enterprise Rent-A-Car and the NHL provided me with a gift package to host my watch party as a thank you for writing this post. However, the views and opinions expressed here are purely my own.