A Satire by BD Gallof
Into the Belly of the Beast
I return to New York City with little fanfare. Their favorite son comes quietly on a cool night. As my team of hockey enforcers all scream and yell at the Detroit/San Jose game as we watch at my favorite watering hole in midtown…Stout. After several beers with the boys, I sneak out to leave them behind. Unfortunately, to gain entrance to the NHL headquarters requires stealth.
I’ll need a disguise that the NHL brass will never see. I find a costume store and put in my order. The old man looks at me strangely at the request.
“You expect to get into NHL headquarters wearing this?”
I just nod my head at him. I have absolutely no doubt. My disguise is foolproof.
He hands me my rather large package and I head off to put it on.
NHL headquarters is located on the Avenue of the Americas in the Exxon building. And was originally built as an extension of the Rockefeller Center buildings, and is the second tallest structure of Rockefeller Center. I enter in disguise through the western entrance, passing a replica of a Pablo Picasso tapestry that hangs on the wall. Some look at me strangely…but nobody that is NHL brass or security.
My hunch seemed right. Nobody seemed able to detect a man dressed as a giant hockey puck going through the doors of NHL headquarters. I sauntered right past the video displays and cameras undisturbed.
A janitor looks at me.
“You crazy white boy!” he exclaims.
He turns to the NHL security desk.
“Don’t you all see that white boy dressed as a damn hockey puck?” he asks them loudly.
I am sure you are all unsurprised as I am that they don’t see a thing.
I enter the elevators, smile to the janitor and give him a thumbs up. The elevator door close and I head deeper into the heart of darkness of the NHL.
When I arrive to the floor, none other than Colin Campbell stands pacing in his full hockey garb. He and his goons litter the entire front waiting room of the NHL offices. They don’t even notice me walk by them. I enter the main hallways, and head down to the deep recesses of NHL headquarters. Finally, I was where I needed to be. My mission from Gordie was coming to fruition. Now was the time to get deep into the muck and find out their plans.
I walk into a conference room, and sweep the door open. Inside is the awful truth. I see bulletin boards. I see promotional signs. I see things littered on the table.
One sign says: “A sport that kids love!” complete with a cartoon happy child.
Another says: “Family fun...ice hockey.”
Pictures of Lady Byng candidates are all over the place.
Another sign: “Soft, safe and speedy…the new NHL.”
I see Disney tie-ins. I see Burger King cups with hockey players smiling and skipping down roads with kiddies. I see happy faces. I see Original Six 6-packs….OF YOGURT. I see Hockeytown USA…with flowers and rainbows.
The horror. The horror.
Then I finally notice I am not alone. Gary Bettman sits in a new NHL kiddie beanbag line chair.
“I’ve been expecting you,” says Gary with a toothy grin and giggle.
To be continued . . .
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