Celebrating Hockey Hilarity at the 'ockey 'all of Fame

Last week, to mark the completion of the first draft of my magnum opus, The Hilarious History of Hockey, I decided to make a much overdue pilgrimage to the Temple of Hockey, the Hockey Hall of Fame. Choosing to accompany me, because there really wasn't very much else to do that day, were my acolytes, I mean family members, Larry (my uncle, visiting from NY), and Moe (my 15-year-old ds, who's real name is Andrew, but because he is very agreeable when I am paying, said he'd answer to Moe for this event). Together, we became the Three Mostly Canadian Stooges - since, I, of course, am Curly.

I've produced this rough photojournalistic essay of our slapstick visit (or, if you prefer, our slapshot, hockey stick visit), complete with commentary from each of the Three Stooges, for your blog-reading pleasure. I hope you enjoy your virtual visit.

The Temple. Don't you just feel your heart beating faster looking at it? Actually, this impressive facade is the back door. You have to go around to the other side, through a mall and down an escalator to get to the entrance to the museum. Cheesy.

That's me, Curly, in the back.I have no idea who these other losers are, but they seem to be typically cold, hard-hearted Torontonians.

This is Larry and Moe.

The holy corridor through which one must pass before you can approach the Shrine. It reminds me of when Dorothy steps into Emerald City.

Or Chartres Cathedral. Take your pick of metaphors.

I call this photo "Stripes." (You can see why I'm a writer, eh?)

WAYNE GRETZKY'S FIRST TROPHY!!!! OOOOOHHHH!!!!

Moe's comment: Gretzky Shmetzky.

Larry's comment: Wayne Who?

GORDIE HOWE'S GLOVES!!!!

Moe's Comment: They look like crap.

Larry's Comment: It gets cold up here in Canada. Gloves are important.

Young Mario Lemieux

Moe's Comment: He looks like a dick.

Larry's Comment: Mario Le Who?

Hockey "art." Notice the Rocket's eye on the puck? And that's supposed to be his foot in a really bad painting.

Moe: That's weird. And stupid.

Larry: The art is not, what you call, to my taste.

Original Boston Bruins jersey. Colors chosen to match the owners' grocery store logo.

Moe: Those are the ugliest colors I've ever seen in my life.

Larry: That's not, what you call, to my taste.

An old Leafs jersey. Study at it carefully - you see all those points on the leaf? They are significant. Look what happened to the points over the next years....

You see the difference??? The points on the leaf have disappeared!! There are only 11 points on the leaf in this jersey, which is - GASP - from 1967 - THE LAST YEAR THE LEAFS WON THE CUP.

So here's my theory: by eliminating the points from the leaf, the team accidentally also eliminated their points in the game....Fewer points on the jersey, fewer points on the ice!!!!

Moe: You are such an idiot.

Larry: I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about, but if you say so, it must be right. You're a smart cookie, everyone knows that.

That's me trying on Ken Dryden's pads.

Moe: You look like an idiot, Mom. Again.Or should I say, Still.

Larry: I wouldn't want to go up against you in a dark alley.

A recreation of the Habs locker room

Moe: Don't say that H word in my presence again, Mom.(Yes, he's a Leaf fan, a congenital defect from having been born in Toronto.)

Larry: Hab a nice day.

A WAYNE GRETZKY LUNCHBOX!!! I WANT IT!!!

Moe: Mom, you are SUCH an idiot.

Larry: That purse would go nicely with your outfit. Very colorful.

Iconic goalie masks - molded into beer kegs.

Moe: Now THAT is cool. Heh  heh.

Larry: Oy.

'Nine' flavors of tomato soup.

Moe: Shouldn't it be 'pea soup?'

Larry: Beans would have been more useful for someone named 'Rocket.'

Cool! - It's the Women's World Champs Plate -with a future Canadian hockey star in the center!!!

Moe: C'mon, mom. You're taking too long here.

Larry: Leave me out of this one, sonny.

The jersey of my all-time favorite team, the New York Americans, the 'Star-Spangled Skaters.' Owned by a rumrunner who was serving time in prison. And betrayed by Rangers owner Tex Rickard, who had promised not to let another team use Madison Square Garden, but then went ahead and started his own when he saw how much money he could make off of men on skates bashing each other with sticks.

Moe: (rolled eyes) You're lecturing, mom.

Larry: (nodded and rolled eyes too.)

A display case full of all kinds of Islanders crap. I took this picture specifically for my dear friend Jeff Weiss who tortured me all through the '70s with his Islanders obsession. We used to sit in his family's rec room and watch the games while he shot nerf balls at a net he'd set up next to the TV. He'd also periodically scream, "Mike Bossy is GOD!" in my ear, which is why I am partially deaf on the left side. If you want to know why I didn't just leave, it's because all the boys from the neighborhood were also in that rec room watching the game. I was stuck - spend the evening in Islanders-Freakland, or be a lonely gal, sitting around watching Masterpiece Theatre with my Mom and Dad.

Moe: (pointing at me) Ha-ha, loser!!!

Larry: I happen to know your mother and father. Very nice people, both of them. And I always enjoyed Masterpiece Theatre. Very good acting, I remember.

Moe is finally happy now that he can touch the Grail. I tell him about all the various players who have pooped, peed and barfed in it and he steps back a tad.

I, too, am awed by Its Holiness. Notice, though, I am not touching the filthy thing.

Moe: Let's go eat lunch.

Larry: Do you have any good diners in this town?

And so we bid a fond farewell to the Hockey Hall of Fame, having experienced the thrill of a lifetime. Or at least, the thrill of an afternoon.

Moe: That was cool.

Larry: I enjoyed it very much. But I always enjoy everything, you know.