Shoot

My Dad and I sit in the stands

of Anchorage's semi-pro hockey team,

when the announcer calls for a moment of silence

for the children of Sandy Hook.

 

3851 people stand,

a collective breathe,

only the cry of a baby,

a righteous sound.

 

Then we sing. (...bombs burting in air...)

Three seconds into the game,

as the puck hits the ice,

before a single play,

a pass,

a shot,

two opposing right wings,

throw their gloves to the ground,

circle each other,

fists raised.

 

My Dad and I look at each other,

as the people around us stand

shaking their identical cowbells

in their identical Aces jerseys,

with their fists raised.

 

Comments

[krysta]

It's so apparent that we live in a culture of violence....and we wonder where ideations of threats of violence come from. We're surrounded by it everyday. Well written Christy, thank you for sharing.

[Christy]

Thanks for commenting Krysta. It was really such an obvious disconnect for me watching how respectfully the whole crowd stood in silence and then minutes later hearing everyone cheer for a fight that was so staged it was bizarre. I mean the game hadn't even started. The announcer even called, "let me hear some noise!" As if people weren't loud enough already. The woman sitting behind us with her elementary age kid yelled, "Get him" once the two men stopped circling each other and starting punching. And that's when the crowd really went wild. And yet we will try to dissect Adam Lanza and his family to paint them as insane or misguided or ill or wrong and wipe our palms of any responsibility.