Hockey, hockey, hockey

How can you tell when a positive part of your life has become a distraction? Don’t expect a warning bell to go off or wait to hear a buzzer. It isn’t always easy to know.

For example, if you enjoy following the National Hockey League, how much time spent watching hockey would you say is too much? Four hours per week? Ten hours a week? Twenty? At what point has it gone too far?

Feel free to substitute another sport or hobby here if you like. Whether it is soccer or football or surfing the Internet, try to identify what could prevent you from living a life that is much more significant. Reading the news, trying to stay up on what is going on in the world, probably consumes too much of my time. What holds your attention?

How do you decide when an interest like hockey has become too important?

Five team jerseys in the closet, two jackets, three hats, four cups, six posters, and two massive team flags flying from each vehicle you own might be a clue. Naming all of your kids “Wayne” after the great Wayne Gretzky could be another. Hosting a hockey night in your home every other night of the week would also be cause for concern. There are likely also many early warning signs that indicate a problem.

There is, of course, nothing wrong with having a little fun and cheering on your favorite team. But how much time and energy and enthusiasm is too much? Where do you draw the line? And what will you miss out on if you don’t?

Fanatical enthusiasm is often worn like a badge of honour when it comes to sports. Few people would declare, “Watching ping-pong is my life purpose!” But in Canada, watching grown men whack a puck back and forth – and beat each other up in the process – comes close.

Given that the bickering between the billionaires and the millionaires has recently come to an end, this is admittedly an odd time to be posing this question. The lockout has finally ended after months of negotiations. For many, this is a great relief. Thankfully, the conflict is over. When it seemed like it would be game over for the entire season, it is now game on.

After such a long break, Sidney Crosby and Alexander Ovechkin are likely trying to remember how to lace up their skates. Okay, maybe not.

It almost sounds unpatriotic to say that I have enjoyed the break from our so-called national pastime. But it’s true. For hockey, among other things, has a way of barging in and demanding enormous amounts of time and attention. More and more and more attention seems to be required. It is never enough. What started out as a fun and friendly game to play on the pond in the winter has turned into a campaign to control your life. When the hockey-cult mindset kicks in things get a little crazy.

“Kill them!!!” That’s what the mother of one of the guys on my team use to yell from the stands. As I recall, we were losing in the first round of the provincial playoffs. And she didn’t seem to care much for the young kids on the other team.

Do you want to wake up one morning in a seniors home (that is, if you live to reach old age) and realize that you had been compulsively committed to secondary and second-rate life goals? One day, perhaps during a break from playing bingo, a small visitor is bound to ask, “So what is the most important thing that you did with your life, Grandpa?” What will you say? Are you going to talk about all the games you have watched and played?

A clock sits on the desk to my right ticking steadily; a reminder that your time on this earth is limited as is mine.