Miraculously, the Lightning beat the Hurricanes last night, 2-1, in an interesting and highly amusing game. Between Tarnasky’s “wanna fight?” attitude all night, swaggering about with his mouth guard clamped between his teeth, glowering menacingly at everyone who looked semi-ready to take a swing; St. Louis’ attack on the Hurricane goalie’s genitals, smack-smack-smack, after Ward stopped the puck between his legs; the checks, the saves, all of it…a great game.
At one point, when Marty St. Louis had the puck, the announcer proclaimed “….and St. Louis scampers over with the puck!” I yelled, “What? Did he just say Marty scampers?”
No one scampers in hockey! C’mon, he may be short, he may be little, but for god’s sake, St. Louis isn’t a hamster or a gerbil! He wasn’t scampering!
Once Gary smelled blood and realized I really, really didn’t like the scampering comment, then “scamper” became the word of the night. “Look, Marty is scampering with the puck again! Come on, Marty, scamper over there and make a shot…did you see him scamper?”
Oh, har-har. I didn’t realize I was living with a side-splitting comedian.
I had planned on watching that game with the kids, and it would have been a fun one, especially with the jokes about Marty and how wound up I get when the game is close. They’d have liked laughing at me and chiming in with 1000 Ways to Use the Word Scamper. I hope they know we miss them and can’t wait to see them. None of this is their fault, has ever been their fault.