Today we had high of thirty-one degrees, and in the evening I saw huge black thunderclouds in the distance. Not a great lead up to Game Six. Seriously, thirty degrees outside and we're playing hockey? Where do we think we are, California? But the Edmonton fans came through for me; they didn't boo the Star-Spangled Banner as I had feared they would - they cheered it. And the team played great (at least, for a partisan observer), with incredible effort from all the players and our goaltender's first-ever playoff shutout. I got to watch one hell of a hockey game, and now we're on to Anaheim.
But let's review: an unseasonably hot May evening just two blocks north of Whyte Ave on the night that the Oilers make it to the Conference final for the first time since I was thirteen. Start six-hour long honking-and-screaming-riot in five...four...three...
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2 comments:
Holy crap. What a crazy night. I work nightshift on Whyte and this was worse (or better for some) then Whyte on Canada day.
I'm assuming that 31 degrees centigrade. For a moment there, I thought Canadians had a strange sense of "heat!"
It's been unofficially 39-41 degrees C. here...already too hot!!
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