Los Angeles Kings Gameday: Lost and Forgotten

The Kings take a moment to honor true high school hockey heroes - Harry How

I met a blogger from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear: "My name is Get'r Dunn, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.


I have mentioned this a lot, so bear with me if you have heard this before, but I used to play hockey. Specifically as a goalie through my high school years. I haven't played since my freshman year of college (regularly) since I found out the cartilage in my knees was pretty much gone and I have had several concussions from playing. I started playing goalie on a consistent basis for the freshman team when I was a freshman (shocker), and sucked balls. Later on I found out I needed glasses/contacts and my play drastically improved. From then on out I was playing for multiple teams at various levels at my high school since no one ever wanted to play goalie. The varsity goalie ahead of me my sophomore year got hurt so I was on the varsity roster from then on out, as well. Up and down through the high school system we were terrible for the most part. Our shots for usually averaged about 20, while our shots against was about 45. Occasionally one of the teams one year would make the finals for our region, but we never won shit.

Additionally, our school never really gave a shit about us either. We weren't given "sport" status, but were instead dubbed a "club". P.E. credit was half of what it was for every other sport, even though we played year round (unlike football). More insults included every team in other sports, even the freshman ones, were bussed to their games. We had to drive ourselves, which wasn't a huge deal, but it was annoying when you are driving out for a game in rush hour traffic when a 14 year old third string water polo player got a lift with the rest of his team on an air conditioned tour bus. The training equipment that every other team at our school had access to was restricted from us, as well. It was sort of like segregation in the south. Hell, we were lucky if we got to use the track for sprints. Thankfully, the wrestling team was cool with us and let us borrow some of their stuff. The downside again was we had to split extremely limited resources amongst four teams and like eighty guys.

One the greatest examples of being treated like less of a person was the first time I fucked up my knee. I went to the trainers room on the campus to have them take a look at it after a conditioning practice. They were shocked to find out we had a hockey team, and I don't think they believed me when I said I had a game the next evening and was concerned about playing. My knee had already swollen up considerably, was discolored, and I couldn't put any weight on it but they were able to give me a quick diagnosis. I was pointed towards a bucket of ice and given a ziplock bag. So much for civil rights (I'm sorry MLK). To be fair, the trainers were busy with a some high jump girl from the track team that had jammed her finger. I suppose that complex injury takes three medical professionals to deal with.

As for our fan attendance, the crowds at games usually was limited to only our parents. Playoff game crowds varied, but my senior year had a decent turnout largely due to our team's antics. It was like a combination of The Bad News Bears and Slap Shot. We still sucked but we at least had decent stories to tell classmates. We had Fred and his socks, and Andy the Jet as our usual go-to stories but my last year in high school was something else. A teammate named Dave was tossed from a game, which was a regular occurrence, but this time he flipped off the opposing team's crowd after they were booing him. My brother, during our shared time at our fascist high school, accumulated something like a dozen fights. The team drank beers in the locker room on occasion, were notorious potheads, and had disgusting rituals. Peeing in trashcans, having the hairiest guy on the team strip in front of the freshmen, signing in for games under the name "Dildo McVagShit", etc.

But all of that is expunged from history now. No, instead NHL.com ran a lengthy piece on my former high school's hockey team and their "national" championship they won last year. An exact quote,

Best of all the Student body at [Nazi Shitbag High School] which for years never considered the possibility of having a varsity hockey team, enthusiastically embraced the team.

Mother. Fuckers. Not surprisingly the former hockey team, myself included, were not happy campers. Especially since the school's team left the high school system for a while a few years after I had graduated and played club teams instead. And that they had a year where the team was made up of only eight players who actually attended the school, and the rest were club players from around the region. But they started winning and the Ducks put money into having a more encompassing high school league in Orange County. That's fine. Just bad timing. That happens.

Though eat shit and die, Skull Fucker High School. For oh so many things. But your blatant bullshit attempts to win at any cost and forget failures are at the forefront. Fuck off into a rose bush, Anaheim Ducks for just recently giving a shit about hockey in south Orange County. You really deserve your dipshit OC patch. And most of all, eat a bucket of gigantic rat dicks with a fecal drizzle, Teemu Selanne. Wash it down with some piss for you and your fucking offspring being good hockey players and giving that high school some wins.

The public erasure of the earlier years of the high school team is pretty lousy. It stretched back to where a few of the coaches had played also, but they no longer exist either apparently. I feel like the comparison of my former high school to Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is pretty spot on. He (and St. Louis) refutes the Holocaust ever happening, whereas this herpes riddled high school pretends like their years of having a lousy, undisciplined group of hockey players never occurred either. The lawsuit is pending, queefwads.

So here are my demands:

  • Let me punch the Prom king upon his coronation every year STARTING NOW.
  • I want a statue of my likeness high above the ground. Ideally where you have that crucifix by the bell tower so that those little shits there can't deface it.
  • Give me a year's supply of those communion wafers since you refused to let me have any since I refuted Catholicism loudly during a school mass.
  • Make my commentary of Christopher Dorner's manifesto required reading for all juniors.
  • I want one of those campus security golf carts.
  • Knee surgery.
  • More socks.
  • My 2004 yearbook signed by Kathy.
  • Campus dean/security/jagoff, Ace to sit in detention for 26 hours; the exact amount of time I spent there because he wrote me up for having long hair (which was against their gestapo rules).
  • Weed you have confiscated shall be delivered to me so I may resell it to your students.
  • An official pardon for Andy the Jet.
  • A giant model of Dave's hand flipping the bird to be paraded out before every school sporting event.
  • A sweater made up of the body hair of every player you expunged from your records to be worn by the captain of the hockey team on gamedays.
  • The quality education that you suckered my parents into paying for.
  • A six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon (cans).
  • Force the principal to drink all of those PBRs in under thirty minutes then have him try and convince parents and alumni to donate to your racist, elitist, entitled fuckstick establishment.
  • A coaching position.

If you fail to meet ANY of these demands, so help me I will take legal action. Or I will sneak onto your campus one evening with bags of hair, and take shits all over the place and dump hair on top of them.




Oh yeah, the Kings are playing. Recap? They won their last game. The Canadiens are in the east, so they probably suck. Sure. Whatever.

Prediction: The Kings lose and I receive a cease and desist from my high school.




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