My crush on hockey might soon replace my crush on Cheryl Ladd, though I'm not taking down my dorm poster just yet. This isn't the sort of amour you rush.
Look, they'll be serving mojitos on Mars before I get out to enough hockey games. At the beginning of each season, I pledge "This will be my hockey year!" and then something gets in the way — life, or football, or both. In America, football is life. The NFL is as phony as Rihanna's eyelashes. But as with stray kitties and free buffets, I can't seem to pass by a single kickoff.