"I only have two followers," says the girl behind the screen. "I need to work on that."
Hi guys! I hope all is well. This will be short and not so sweet and I hope you enjoy it.
Hockey, hockey, hockey. It's the pride and joy of Canada. It's high up on the list, next to bacon and beavers and maple syrup and polar bears, of things we celebrate here on our frozen landscape. And I think that's pretty cool. Personally, I can't watch a game without falling asleep, but I like the idea of a family going out on a snowy Friday night, wrapped tightly in mittens and scarves and things of that nature, to watch their daughter/son play in a chilly arena, drinking hot chocolate or coffee and cheering her or him on. It's a nice little picture, isn't it? And I think that's how it should be. Friendly and homey, happy and cold, in a little arena made for young kids to have some fun doing what they love to do.
Now that I got all of that nice stuff out of the way, here's what's pissing me off.
I live in Edmonton. And in Edmonton, we don't just love hockey; we are obsessed with hockey. Not me personally, but the general consensus is that hockey is God. And we have this arena called Rexall Place. And I've been there a few times (for concerts, not hockey games, mind you) and it seems pretty swell. Big and spacious, with lots of room for lots of people. But you know, that just isn't enough for us Edmontonians. We need a fucking palace. A place of worship for this sport. This sport that started out as a fun past-time and turned into a billion dollar industry.
Daryl Katz, the resident expert on capitalism in Edmonton, decided that we need something better than Rexall. We need a brand new million dollar arena. Woohoo. Now, I'll give Katz some credit. He likes to be called a philanthropist sometimes, so he gives away a few dollars here and there. That's really nice of him, I think, since he can afford it. But there's just something about this guy that rubs me the wrong way. I really don't like to judge people, but I can't help but question his morals. My best friend and I found his house in Edmonton around this time last year, and it's beautiful. Huge and beautiful. But I was puzzled. In his front yard, he built his kids a private rink. A big one too. But why would someone who supposedly cares about his community not let other kids play on this rink too? Why wouldn't he fund a rink for the whole neighbourhood instead of just his own children? He's got the money. Why flaunt, in your front yard, the fact that you could build a rink for other kids too, but you won't. Also, he donated an illegally large amount of money to the Progressive Conservative party (*puke*), but that's a story for another day. I digress...
My point is, yeah, it would be fucking sweet to have a new rink for our Oilers. That would be cool. But: 1. Do we really need it? and 2. What else could we do with these millions and millions of dollars?
1. No. We don't need it. Like I explained in the beginning of my post, Canada was founded on hockey. It's our thing, dude. If people are true hockey fans, they won't mind sitting on a wooden bench with a few extra layers of clothes on. They just like the game. It shouldn't be a big deal.
2. A lot. We could do a lot. The last count of homeless citizens happened in 2008. There were 3,079 people without a home. Daryl Katz, there were 3,079 people without a home and you built your kids a skating rink. Daryl Katz, there are probably more than 4,000 people without a home and you're going to build the Oilers a million dollar skating rink. Homeless population > skating rinks. Battered women's shelters > skating rinks. SPCA > skating rinks. The University of Alberta's research program > skating rinks.
That's all I have to say.
Agreed. I was so mad when I heard about tho rink and how much trouble it was causing because of where it should go and stuff.. like guys. Come on its JUST hockey! but seriously as soon as you say that people actually freak out. I said that to my step dad and whoooa he was not happy. They could do so much with that money its stupid.
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