At the rate they’re going to negotiate a new bargaining agreement, this union-management “faceoff” may prevent that first puck of the 20012/13 season from being dropped until you-know-what freezes over.
So, how do I satisfy my hockey fix?
Well, one week every year, I put on a HAPPY face – sans a hockey goalie mask – and reunite with about 35-40 of my closest friends – Italians, Yanks and Canucks – as we literally take over the Hotel Adler in Villabassa, up in the Val Pusteria, nestled in the shadows of the Dolomites, for a fun-filled settimana bianca (white week).
And one night during that week – while the downhill skis are asleep and the boots are airing out – we pile into cars, turn the heaters up to MERCURY and convoy over to nearby Brunico to take in a hockey su ghiaccio (ice hockey) game and root for the hometown pro league team, the Val Pusteria Wolves.
You know the well-worn joke, “I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out?” Well, over here in the Italian pro league, players very rarely fight.
The only joke played out down on the ice are the players’ uniforms. They sport so many adverts on their unis, you’d swear you were in the stands at Talladega Superspeedway where the race cars look like rolling billboards promoting everything from power tools to power bars.
It’s what I call NASCAR on ICE.
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