Pardon the Eruption
By Terrance Gavan
We wrote last week about the Fenelon Falls Arena, while extolling with vapid whimsy on the sweet din and murmur of our own Dysart Barn here in Haliburton.
Both the Bantam and Midget Highland Storm teams swept their quarter final series in Haliburton on Sunday. The old cow palace was hopping for both games, and the din was, as ever, delightful, delicious and delovely.
We caught the Bantam Storm game (won 6-1), but missed the Midget game (Storm won 7-5), because we had to dart down the freeway to Minden for the annual Family Weekend Chili tasting derby, held in the community centre above the SG Nesbitt shrine.
Thus what you are about to hear dear readers is merely an account of what I could glean from that midget contest.
So, we’ll make it short and sweet.
The Storm held a 6-0 lead in the second period and the game ended 7-5.
Thus you may be assured that fans on both sides were – how shall we place this with the proper amount of subtlety – going BONKERS in the Dysart stands.
Somewhere in the midst of all this sturm, drang and shinny upheaval, a woman left her seat in the visitors’ section of the stands, treaded lightly down the clapboard steps to the penalty box, and dumped a beverage – not Gatorade, but one of those caffeine-laced pick-me-ups – all over Storm forward Ryan Hunter, who also plays for the Haliburton High Red Hawks.
That much is undeniable. We may groan and creak about the give and take, and what may or may not have transpired to assist this little sally forth into inanity.
It matters not who said what, whether the player and fan exchanged phrases, or whether the woman in question was in the throes of a sugar rush or a demonic intercession.
These are all secondary to the inappropriate showering of a player sitting in a protected area.
The woman was extracted from the stands and banned to the parking lot where she continued to stomp, stalk and schlep passers by and anyone else who might be within earshot. She chose to have words with several Bantam Storm players who were only on their way to Subway. They inquired as to her mental state and asked if they could call 911.
Now, pouring a hot drink, or a cold drink on a young hockey player – or on anyone for that matter – is strictly defined as assault.
Do I think the woman should have been led away in handcuffs?
Damn right. Now I know that local OPP Sgt Mike Landry and all my good friends in the Highlands’ constabulary are all very busy people, but in this case I think they should have been called to the scene and that crazy lady should have been handcuffed on the spot and delivered to the cop shop for an interview.
It’s assault, cut and dried, and it’s an offence that at least needed to be logged.
Crazy people in general need to be tracked. And crazy hockey fans need to be tracked double quick, double time, because, well, for the same reason that postal workers are not allowed to own weapons in certain parts of theUnited States. Remember what Eddy Murphy said? Whatever happened to crazy? As in no excuse Mrs. Double Double.
The very idea that a grown up might act thus has us flummoxed.
The added knowledge that she carried this obtuse behavior to the parking lot — at a time when most normal adults would have been hunched down in the back seat of their soccer mom Dodge Caravan – is an indication of exactly how out of touch with reality she was.
And we wonder, just what kind of message she delivered to the kids playing the game, kids who are already receiving mixed messages regarding peripheral bad acts from serial crazies like Din [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][sic] Cherry and other retributive buffoons and oafs that dwell on the ersatz fringes of the loopy NHL Enforcers’ Club.
The loopy lady illustrates perfectly what’s wrong with minor hockey and why it was long ago eclipsed by rep league soccer as the leading participation sport inCanada.
Parents go to a soccer game with no hyperbolic expectations about their son or daughter becoming the next Rinaldo, because most Canadian soccer moms and dads could not distinguish between Wayne Rooney and Lionel Messi in a two person line up.
But a crazy portion of moms and dads with a 50 inch LED and a subscription to the Jets Channel think that the kid in the baggy pants with ankles dragging ice is the next Matt Duchene.
Here’s what we need to do with crazy hot beverage lady.
Get her to court, get her before judge, ban her for a year from her son’s hockey games and interdict her access for life from Tim Horton’s and the arena concession stand.
Oh, and lock her in stocks at center ice for about half an hour.
I’ve got some old tomatoes in the bottom of my fridge.