Follow @james_tanner123 I was just sitting here minding my own business when I came across an ad on Twitter to go and meet Oliver Ekman-Larsson and Howler, the Coyotes' mascot.
Now, this may surprise you, but I have no desire to meet the Howler. In fact, I was all set to come on here and just shred that idiot like the second rate mascot he wishes he was, but then I suffered an existential realization that there was something wrong with me for wanting to do that.
He's just for kids man, leave him alone. He's pretty cute too - you almost forget that his kind is responsible for over 160 attacks on humans in the last 30 years and that his diet consists mostly of dead animals he scavenges from the side of the road. It's not like there are grown men out there rushing to meet Howler (well actually there might be that's a different blog) he's just there for fun and to probably get a break from all the self-loathing he does when he's not in costume. All teams have mascots and hating them is really sign that you've just become way, way too cynical.
So I will now embrace Howler, who, at worst, is still 100,000 better than Maple Leafs' mascot Carlton the Bear. At least the Howler is a Coyote for a team called the Coyotes. Carlton the Bear is like a rejected Bruins' mascot with all the charisma of a mumps outbreak. Nothing quite says "Maple Leafs" like a giant white bear. And while it is true that 60% of the world's polar bears do live in Canada, roughly none of them live in the Toronto which is further south than many U.S cities.
Hating on mascots is, I think, a lot like how I hate the Olympics. Sure, they're corrupt and prone to leaving disaster in their wake, but no one cares. No one reads your well thought out rants against mascots or the Olympics, and then changes their mind. No one asks "Hey, why do I suddenly care about curling?" They're the Olympics dammit! and arbitrarily cheering for people who share the same passport as you is in no way ridiculous human adult behavior.
Which of course leads me to the World Cup that everyone is talking about. People will complain about the format till the coyotes come home without ever stopping to acknowledge how idiotic playing a luck-driven tournament with no competitive balance, based on outdated concepts of international pride is. They will fail to realize that the NHL and similar leagues were invented precisely (one assumes) to make up for the fact that international competitions are boring and predictable because certain countries dominate.
Oh can the Harlem Globetrotters Team Canada
I literally could not care less about Olympics, World Cups (or their gimmicks) Mascots or frankly even meeting Oliver Ekman-Larsson himself. (I mean, what are we going to talk about? Stieg Larsson? Our mutual careers as underwear models?). I actively hate the guys who go to these things and get autographs to sell, but then again, who wants an autograph and why? Unless you're ten.
What would the point of meeting a hockey player even be, unless it was to get him to play in your pick-up game?
But here's the thing: who cares? You got to pick your battles, Jimmy. I mean, regardless of my views, grown men will still act like teenage girls at a pop concert when it comes to meeting athletes. Olympics, World Cups and Mascots will remain popular, and people are going to be insanely into the World Cup, even if the only thing stopping a Canadian victory is improbable bad luck.
Because, and here's the rub: people like to have fun and all these things are fun. Ultimately, the World Cup is going to happen, so you might as well enjoy some top notch hockey. I mean, if you really think about it, most of the things you care about anyways are also probably ridiculous. I know it's true of myself. Why do I care so much about the NHL or TV or Music or NES games or becoming an amateur lepidopterist?
I mean, guys like me just have to face up to the fact that guys who yell "get off my lawn" at every single crappy thing just get tiresome, because most things are crappy and people just don't care, nor do they want to be constantly reminded of it. Sure, some things are unjust and deserve scorn, but maybe it's time to lighten up and embrace my boy Howler?
Perhaps I should learn to accept the things we cannot love and forgive the things I feel like stabbing? Let us not be cynical. So you should go and get Howler's autograph. Live like a kid. Be an obnoxious autograph seeking profiteer, do whatever you want really. I'll just be over here taking pictures of my food and posting them to social media while the cheese congeals and my money gets wasted.
Hell, I might even throw a Foo Fighters record on the stereo, start using popular catchphrases and watching Two and a Half Men. Maybe I'll join the Dane Cook fanclub and start fist-bumping people with sincerity. I'll embrace plus/minus. Buy a fedora, maybe grow a goatee.
You never know what could happen. I might even get all sentimental and buy a Shane Doan jersey.
If you need me, I'll be out back dropping Tweets with my bros.
Peace and Love
Thanks for reading.