The first time I read this, I thought it was about me!
Still funny after all these years!
Enjoy!



            For many years the Boston "Phoenix" would publish a special
section on/around St. Valentine's Day that chronicled reader testimonials
of Cupid's hits and misses.  The following excerpt appeared a few years
ago, and was sent to me by a Boston acquaintance who met his future bride
at a college hockey game, and who still plan their social calendar around
the UNH icemen.  I think we all know people (of both sexes) who could have
written the following:



     "I blame it all on a goddamn college hockey game.  Oh, sure, you're
thinking, maybe I should blame myself.  Well, the hell with all of you.  The
light of my life, she was - or so I'd convinced myself over the space of
the three weeks we'd been taking the same political history course.  Our
eyes met during a lecture on Grover Cleveland, and I was hooked.  I asked
her out for a beer after class; she mentioned that she had an extra ticket
to that night's game against St. Lawrence.  At the time, I understood less
about hockey than I did about Grover Cleveland, but so what??  I would be
with HER.



      That night, I learned that the St. Lawrence icemen are known to one
and all as the 'Larries'; for all I knew, there could have been a bunch of
Moes and Curleys down there too.  The problem was... *she* knew.  Worse
yet, she cared.  And she was appalled that I didn't.  Which is why she then
launched into a lengthy and aggressively condescending discourse on the
subtle differences between cross-checking, spearing, and aggravated
assault, intermittently punctuated by her emphatic observation that the
referee was, as she put it, a 'blind motherf**ker.'  All hope vanished at
the moment she realized that I didn't count Snooks Kelley as one of the
five greatest inspirations of my life; her lips were silent, but her eyes
said 'wimp city.'  Dreams die hard - but none so hard as those shattered by
a bunch of hyperthyroidal Canadians with knives on their feet and sticks in
their hands. Goddamn college hockey game.  Maybe I'll become a priest ...."