It's Not the Band I Hate, It's Their Fans

I’m pretty sure Chris Murphy or Patrick Pentland or whoever wrote Coax Me wasn’t referring to the Montreal Canadiens, but I am. I stole this line, not only from a pop band who had huge potential and spoiled it, but from two friends. Unbeknownst to them (see how I stole another Sloan line, clever huh?), they both use that line. Specifically, Meesh uses it to describe Habs fans; that’s the slant I’m taking.

You see, Habs fans are typically referred to as the smartest fans in hockey. They know the rules, they know when a player is playing well on both sides of the ice (goal scoring is not all that matters) and they know when a player isn’t. But I take exception to that view. Is it smart to boo your number one goalie after he lets in his first goal of the season in the first game of the preseason? A game that doesn’t even matter? That’s what happened on Wednesday night. Carey Price, loved and hated equally in Montreal, let in a soft goal, his first of the pre-season, and was immediately booed by the fans in attendance. Likely 10,000 people since the other half of the 20,000 in attendance like him and chanted his name as he took the ice.

There have been tons of blogs, news stories and tweets about this so I’m just reinforcing the negative here, but I have to rant from time to time. The best I’ve heard was from Dave Stubbs who writes for the Montreal Gazette (http://www.habsinsideout.com/) who said, in a series of tweets:

Fans' booing of #Habs Price reminds me of my 1980s-90s days as a ref in the WWF (now WWE)... #Habs

Fans would throw garbage at villains in ring, then stand outside Forum in -20C winter to get their autographs #Habs

It’s no wonder people hate us (Habs fans). You fuckers make them hate us. Ole your ass.

Why?

There's an urban legend out there about an exam question on a university exam. It was a bonus mark question that was simply "why?" The answer, according to the legend, is "why not."

I haven't been much of a blogger lately because I've become bored with writing. I was initially inspired by two things; an incident that inspired me and a friend who blogs who also inspired me. Since then I've been pissed off less and less. Hard to imagine, I know.

But something happened that killed my urge to blog. It was the question "why?" Specifically "why blog?"

I've thought long and hard about this over the last drunken 20 minutes. I've come up with four (I've changed that number numerous times) answers:

1. I want to be heard (i.e., I'm vain).
2. I want to educate.
3. I want to entertain.
4. It's cathartic.

The truth, as always, lies somewhere in between. No, wait, they're all true.

I do want to be heard. I want you to hear what I have to say, otherwise I'd just think these thoughts and carry on.

I want to educate. I hope to teach you things like "don't bike on the sidewalk."

I want to entertain. I can't say for certain that I do, but if you're here again, I can't help but think I do.

It is cathartic. I type this shit that I hope you read (i.e., to fulfill my need to be heard), that will educate you (that's up to you), and that is entertaining (I hope I didn't fail) and it feels good. I need to get this shit out. If you spend time with me, and I'm sure my 20 readers do, you know I'm opinionated. I need to tell it like I see it and this is a way to get it out without pissing you off face to face (not that I don't anyway). And after I type it, I won't bring it up in person and get into stupid arguments like why singing the national anthem at sporting events is stupid.

I want to blog more and I hope I do. But the "why?" still haunts me. I started out having fun with it and kept trying to one-up each post. Maybe I'm the problem. Maybe I don't' have to be better with each post. Maybe I just have to do it to feel better or to get shit out. Or, most likely, I'm drunk and I shouldn't be sitting in front of this keyboard right now.