Zamboni blues

As I've blogged before, I don't have a TV. By choice. (OK, OK, I'm too cheap to pay the cable bill). But I honestly don't miss most of it. GWSC,FRIDU,TRA (as previous readers now know, this is "girlfriend who chooses to remain anonymous." Now expanded to "Girlfriend who still chooses, for reasons I don't understand, to remain anonymous".
Anyway, she has a TV. Which I really like. (No, that's not the only reason I'm with her. I honestly would be just as much in love even if she didn't have a TV). But it's nice to watch sports again. Even with the interminable litany of ads. Even if the NFL games are fixed. (that's for a future blog). I also still like the Weather Channel, although it's become a total sellout to weather freaks. And the occasional really good TV drama or comedy.
But what I really miss is a good hockey game. I'm out of the hockey loop. My closest experience to the NHL is what my hockey-addicted brother tells me. He lives in California and was in 7th heaven when his LA Kings won the Stanley Cup last year.
This blog, however, is not just about the great game of Canada. It's actually about what happens between periods. And that, of course, is the Zamboni. True, if a game is on TV, the cameras don't show the Zamboni going around the ice. The fools think this would actually detract from the ratings. Anyone who's seen a Zamboni in action knows better. I am not alone in this view. There is a band called the Zambonis. And there have been innumerable references to the Zamboni in our culture. Airing the Zamboni between periods might actually be an upgrade from the 30 second interviews with the players.

Interviewer: "That was some goal you scored."
Player: "Yeah, ay."
Interviewer: "Was the goalie screened? Looks like he missed it completely."
Player: "Dunno, ay."

Anyway, back to the Zamboni. But first, a brief primer. The Zamboni was invented by Frank Zamboni, in that mecca of hockey, San Pedro, CA. He invented it in 1949, got the patent 4 years later, and had his first prototype going the following year. The Zamboni, as any hockey fan knows, is an ice resurfacer. It cleans the ice, gets out all the scrapes and divots, and, when done, returns to the viewer a beautifully pristine surface, ready for the skaters to use for the next period. It is to hockey what any Apple product is to technology today, except that the Zamboni actually makes sense to me.
To watch it in action is a mesmerizing experience. I watch it dutifully, making sure the driver doesn't miss a crescent of ice. If he/she does, and the next period resumes, it takes me 5 minutes to focus away from the missed crescent and back to the game. This is because the ice surface is now rough enough where the missed area isn't noticeable.
Everyone remembers their first Zamboni moment. Mine was in 1967 at the old Madison Square Garden at, I believe, 50th Street. Its last year before the present site at Penn Station. My mom took me and my brother Jeff to see the Rangers play the Chicago Black Hawks. The Hawks had Bobby Hull, he of the fastest slap shot in NHL history (at the time). They had some other great players and were in general better than the Rangers. And they in fact did win that game, 1-0 on a goal by Kenny Wharram with 5:50 to go. Wharram was the right wing on a line with Stan Mikita at center and Bobby Hull on left wing. The last two were perhaps the most potent due in the NHL at the time. Both are in the Hall of Fame.
Anyway, with all that history and majesty, but without any scoring, a non-fan would think that this would be a boring game. Ah, anything but. You must remember that the game of hockey has so much action that, even without scoring, it's still a beautiful game to watch. However, even more, hockey has the aforementioned Zamboni. And THAT was the bonus I didn't expect. Here I was, a wide-eyed 12 year old, seeing my first NHL game. And then out comes the Zamboni between periods. My mom asked me if I needed to go to the bathroom, or if I wanted popcorn, or, well, I have no idea what she was asking me. She could have told me the entire Garden was burning down and I wouldn't have heard a thing. I was transfixed. Mesmerized. Stupefied. Where did this machine come from? How does it work? Will the driver accurately smooth over the next lane of ice? Even more importantly, will I ever drive one? I found my purpose in life. To drive a Zamboni. Does life get any better?
7 years later, while a junior in college, I was watching my local hockey team, the Plattsburgh State Cardinals, in a game which, I think, they were winning after two periods, possibly 6-0. It was a blowout. I was, to be honest, the most maniacal P'burgh hockey fan on campus. Everything was great. Until the Zamboni broke down between periods. It was stuck. I mean, immovable. Result: The game ended and we had to forfeit. My week was ruined. My GPA dropped half a point. I still think the opposition sabotaged the machine. I've been spending 38 years trying to make my case but no attorney has been willing to work with me. The fools.  (Hey, my brother is also an attorney. Maybe I'll try to recruit him)
Fast forward to 2004. My wife at the time, through a series of mechanisms, has a surprise for my birthday. She has conspired with the Zamboni driver at a local rink to let me drive the Zamboni! Not during a game, but just during a period of regular maintenance. Meaning that no one except the three of us will know. Which was fine with me.
Somewhat to my surprise, it was not easy. You have to steer it just right. And it does not steer easily. I was missing ice all over the place. You also have to maintain just the right speed, which is roughly 5 MPH. Too fast and you risk crashing it into the boards. Too slow and, well, you can't go much slower than 5 MPH. But it does give off a lot of fumes, so the sooner you get through it, the better. You do NOT want to be standing behind a Zamboni. 
But I did it. I even managed to drive it out of the rink and activate the setting that dumps the used ice on the ground.
The irony of all this is that I now have access to watch hockey games. But there are NO hockey games due to the owner lockout. Supposedly settled as of this writing. But it's past halfway into the season, so the games are, to me, almost meaningless. And without taking my suggestion, the NHL network, or whoever broadcasts these games, will probably NOT be airing the Zamboni in process. I mean, if I'm a network honcho and I know I've got a season that everyone is disillusioned with, and I've got mindless chatter between periods, why would I NOT make this brave decision?

I don't like it, ay.

Long live the Zamboni. Long may you run.

Thanks for reading, y'all...gp