Does This Make Me A Bad Canadian?

I think my utter disdain for all things winter is starting to take over my life. Actually I know it is, because just the mere fact that it is currently fall is causing me great amounts of annoyance and sorrow. It’s been this way for years and it gets worse and worse with each trip through the calendar, but I think it might finally be getting a little out of hand.

The other day I was skimming the sports news when a thought struck me. “aww fuck, it’s nearly fucking hockey season again! What bullshit!” there may have been a few more expletives in there, but that’s pretty much how it went. Even writing that out again I still can’t believe I thought it, but I still think it if that makes any sense at all. Let me try to explain.

I don’t know about the rest of you, but to me it feels like hockey season just ended, and when it was nearing its end I was telling everybody who would listen to me that it was going on way too long. My argument was that when it’s 27 and sunny outside, it’s time to pack up the sticks and pucks, melt the ice like has happened outdoors and call it a day. We should not still be playing hockey in June, that’s just a tiny bit ridiculous. I should have known at that point that there was trouble on the horizon, but amazingly, even among some of the hockey people I know, this line of reasoning met with little to no resistance, so I guess I can see how I thought I was completely in the right. In my world the end of hockey means the beginning of summer, a season superior to that steaming vat of horse leavings known as winter in almost every way. And if the end of hockey means the start of summer, then it only makes sense that the start of it means summer’s over, and soon you’ll be slogging through that fucking white crap to get anywhere and freezing your jingleberries off while you’re doing it. And since cold weather and that white crap are two of the banes of my existence, my brain has begun to turn on something I actually enjoy, hence the “aww fuck, it’s nearly hockey season again!” reaction I had.

I understand aww fuck it’s Christmas and not caring so much about my birthday anymore, but I’m a little concerned that my all-consuming hatred for half a year’s worth of Canadian climate is causing me to turn on fun things like watching hockey and drinking Canadian Club. Granted, watching baseball and drinking Canadian Club can be done outside in good weather, but still, I really do like hockey and there’s a lot of hope for the Leafs this year, so I should be excited that starting tonight there are preseason games on TV again. But you know what? I’m not. I just can’t get worked up about it, not in a positive way at least. I’m sure I’ll come around eventually, but tonight, even though as of Sunday they’re mathematically eliminated from the playoffs, I’ll be watching the Jays. And even if there was no Jose Bautista gunning for more than 50 home runs, I’d probably still be watching them while flipping now and then to the Yankees and the Rays. I’m sure at some point I’ll check in on the Leafs or if nothing else watch the highlights, but at the rate things are going I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to think about hockey without sobbing uncontrollably.

I either need to move or get help of some sort, because there’s no way that snow and cold should be able to ruin me like this. I know it tests the will of just about everyone to an extent, but I’m starting to worry about me just a little.

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