Other than the constant ‘Hey, the Chicago Blackhawks are…” whatever their streak is now, I don’t get to talk much hockey in American Literature. I have two students, one a Toronto Maple Leafs fan and his twin is a Montreal Canadiens follower. We chat sometimes, but they both give me grief about being a Philadelphia Flyers fan. Not that either of their current teams have so much to be pompous about, but I digress.
When hockey does come up in class, I seriously do an internal little dance. For a moment or two, I don’t have to talk about Nathaniel Hawthorne or Tennessee Williams; I can just enthuse about hockey. I meant to mention this on here before, but posts prior got away from me (and my brain is seriously fried and needs Spring Break), but then I remembered and wanted to share.
Sometime after the Edmonton Oilers vs. San Jose Sharks game on Jan 22, a student brought up in my first period class that they had used the “Flying V” in actual play. I had read or heard about it, but since I don’t follow either team, I didn’t really pay it much mind. But still, cool because for me and my contemporaries, the only things we knew about hockey in our early lives was from The Mighty Ducks franchise.
When this was brought up in class, another student asked, “What’s the ‘Flying V’?” I was aghast. Was it possible that this generation of young people were without the knowledge that had been so joyfully bestowed upon me about hockey and being a champion? (I probably didn’t even know who Queen was prior to those films.) Did they even know who Emilio Estevez was? And little Joshua Jackson who went on to be Pacey in Dawson’s Creek and now Peter Bishop in Fringe? How horrible that they’d gone this long in life (fifteen to seventeen years) without this experience.
Which means, I pulled up YouTube.
We first watched the original awesomeness:
And when they were duly awed by this, I found the ‘life imitates art’ version.
Which I must admit, doesn’t quite have the pizzazz as the movie because well, they didn’t score. My students then of course wanted to watch a million other things that had nothing to do with literature and I had to shut them down, naturally.
But for a moment, that early morning in the classroom was perfect.