Thursday Morning Cupcheck - The Pantheon of the Hockey Gods

by Todd Maternowski

This week our hockey scribe debates the existence and purpose of the Hockey Gods.

Top of the morning, hockey fans! Last week we learned, we laughed, we loved, and we dissected Jennifer Floyd Engel's angry polemic towards Stars management with much grace and aplomb. This week I was at the Walmart renting a tux for my One-Tenth of the Season Awards Ceremony, when I was approached by my old friend (and fellow Kennedy assassination co-conspirator) Gary Bettman. The foppish and erudite gadabout Bettman, long a fan of my work, wanted me to head a panel discussing and debating the lighter side of hockey --namely, the only-recently unearthed mysteries of the Sacred Pantheon of the Hockey Gods. I quickly cobbled together a panel of myself, Eternal Hockey Commissioner Gary Bettman, former Pope Boniface VIII, noted Zambonologian Michael Moctocamus, and my hockey-watching compatriot "Escobar."

Me: Good evening. For to-da---uh, Gary, we're live, could you put your pants on? And keep them on? Thank you. Where was I? Oh, right, good evening, today's Cupcheck features some of the top minds in hockey discussing the existence, purpose and meaning of the Hockey Gods. Gentlemen, I'm going to open the discussion with a "What's up with the hockey gods?". Please, begin.

Everyone all at once:unintelligible gibberish and yelling

Me: Ok, bad idea. Moctocamus, let's start with you. Your take on the sacred pantheon?

Above, an NHL defenseman gets his game face on

Michael Moctocamus: Thanks, Todd. The Hockey Gods have existed long before the first proto-Canadian took a tree branch out to a frozen pond and established a forecheck. The Hockey Gods have always been with us, are influencing current events, and will continue to be with us long after man has evolved into slimy, tentacled organisms incapable of independent thought or making a glove save. Like any standard pantheon, the Hockey Gods are many, and serve different purposes for different individuals. The typical NHL forward worships a different god than the typical NHL goalie, for example, while a defenseman can worship any number of deities simultaneously. Even NHL commissioners have their own holy objects of affection.

Me: Is that right, Gary?

Gary Bettman: It's true, I pray every ten minutes that no one will notice these foul stains on my expensive clothes.

Me: Yeeeah, but that's not really--

Bettman: IGNORE THAT SMELL!!!

Me: Moving on... Escobar, your thou--oh, jeezus Gary, did you just eat a fart and crap its carcass just now?? Holy--

Pope Boniface VIII: This is not a productive area of discussion.

Me: I apologize, and let's get back to the program. This pantheon intrigues me. Escobar, your thoughts?

Escobar: Thank you, Todd. The pantheon can best be understood when it is divided into Who Worships Whom. Take the defensemen, for example. They have two deities they worship that are unique to defensemen, although the occasional forward has been known to make sacrifices at these holy being's altars. The first god of the defensemen is Crom, the Bleeding One, God of Strength and Battle. Crom enjoys nothing better than to find a game, use his supernatural abilities to shrink the rink to 10% of its original size, and wade in to the carnage, fists a-blazin'. Defensemen pray to Crom for strength --specifically the strength that will allow them to mash weaker opponents' spines into a warm, viscous liquid-- and fearless courage in the face of overwhelming odds. Many of Crom's high priests are spreading his message of pain and blood as we speak --Chris Pronger is a devout worshiper of Crom, while promising acolyte Stephan Robidas is currently undergoing intensive pain-related training, hoping to one day join the upper ranks of Crom's exalted Priesthood of Punishment.

Me: Interesting, very interesting. And the defensemen's second god?

Escobar: The secondary deity of the NHL defenseman is far less popular, and is shared by some forwards more commonly known as 'enforcers' and 'thugs.' The deity of which I speak is of course Knucklebert, a.k.a. Stonefists, the Heavy Pounder, He Who Never Forgets, God of Retribution and Punishment. Unlike the glory-in-battle-seeking adherents of Crom, Knucklebert's many clerics have dedicated their lives to righting wrongs, enforcing justice and ensuring that no crime goes unpunished. No transgression is too small to go unnoticed by Knucklebert's zealous clerics, some of whom would gladly cruise the ice, dispensing justice without pay, if the Player's Guild would allow them. While not as popular as some of the major hockey deities, Knucklebert is nevertheless well-served by some prominent players such as Matthew Barnaby --who regularly sacrificed opponent's teeth and bits of skull on his altar to Stonefists-- while some younger seekers like Brad Winchester continue to bask in the glow of their deity, gaining the law-giving strength they need to effectively judge and execute on-ice criminals.

Me: Fascinating stuff. And do forwards worship these gods too?

Pope Boniface VIII: Not at all! Forwards have their own gods, and of all the positional players, they have the greatest variety of deific options for their worshiping pleasure. Some forwards, for example, prefer to pray to Greki, the Trickster God, The Laughing Rogue, while others lay down the incense sticks and candles for Foppus, God of Slaughter, Hater of Life, Despiser of Rules, and Unholy Diver. Occasionally, some forwards are even godless heathens who refuse to admit the existence of any hockey-related deity, preferring a life bereft of divine intervention.

Me: Please elaborate on these fascinating deities.

Pope Boniface VII: No.

This is how Marty Turco appears to opposing forwards

Me: ....okaaayy.... well, that leaves the goaltenders, a superstitious lot if ever there was one. To whom do these warriors owe their divine strength?

Moctocamus: Interestingly enough, a goalie's already-supernatural abilities usually involve the transcendence of normal playerdom and ascendance to godhood themselves. Goalies are routinely performing the kinds of extraordinary feats of legend that are usually the sole domain of the gods --stopping time, reversing gravity, and slowing down the very laws of physics are all weapons a typical goaltender stocks in his puck-stopping arsenal. Isaac Newton posited the possible existence of goaltenders as early as 1643, but decided that their inclusion into his Laws of Physics would shatter his carefully-thought out system of force, mass and acceleration.

Me: Amazing stuff. And how does this relate to the hockey gods?

Moctocamus: I'm getting to that. While all goaltenders have some ability to bend the laws of the universe, it's the truly great goalies who can casually shrug off the inconvenient constraints of space and time, becoming, if you will, Demi-Goalies. As the Pope of Hockey Darryl Reaugh himself has noted in his seminal paper "Touched by Roy," a Demi-Goalie has attained to a level where he can warp the physical environment around him at will, bend the material plane to suit his needs, and eventually cast off his physical form, becoming an entity of Pure Light. Without need for their "bodies," many Demi-Goalies effortlessly float about as disembodied heads, capable of commanding the ether to strike out and stop pucks when so called-upon. This is why noted Demi-Goalie Patrick Roy is actually the size of a human thumb, while Demi-Goalies in Ascendance such as Dominic Hasek have such a difficult time stickhandling in their own zone: Hasek has not quite transcended the need for wood and plastic in the often awkward stage before Godhood.

Me: Very cool. Are there also Hockey Gods for other NHL functionaries, such as referees or hot dog overpricers?

Escobar: Actually, there are several schools of thought on this. Some keen observers have posited that NHL referees worship Werecall, the Blind Idiot-God. Other scholars theorize that officials bow down in large numbers in the churches of Zebrus, the Sleeping One, the One Who Knows Not. After a lifetime of study, however, I have come across arcane documents that point to a third, more plausible theory: that referees may worship these deities in their public lives, but in private, in hidden temples far from prying eyes, a majority of referees prostrate themselves to Usuk, the ancient Egyptian Dark Lord of Undeath. This insane Vampiric Cult believes that in order to survive and thrive, they must draw out the life-blood of their young, healthy victims. These fiendish denizens of the night dedicate their parasitic existences to draining the life out of hockey games, calling ridiculous penalties whose sole purpose is to provide Usuk with unholy sustenance. As such, Usuk is diametrically opposed by Crom and Greki in the pantheon, and their battles are legend.

Bettman: Aren't you forgetting the greatest of all the gods?

Me: Please elaborate, Gary. And stop molesting that collie.

Bettman: After millennia of searching for answers, the mystics and oracles at the NHL League Office have found The All-Father, the Shining One, the Televised One. He is all-powerful, and the other Hockey Gods look up to Him as we look up to Them. Ultimately even the deities Themselves are but Aspects of His Many Faces. He is the One who will save us from ourselves! I have tattooed His Holy Visage on the insides of my retina, so that His Face is the only thing my vision will ever again see. Someday soon, every hockey fan will also have these sacred tattoos of Him implanted directly onto their optic nerves.

Me: You mean Sidney Crosby?

Bettman: Do not speak His Name!!

Me: This discussion is officially over.

So there you have it, ye seekers of hockey lore. Tune in next week when welcome Peter Forsberg to the Stars with open arms, and a swift kick to the groin.