Yesterday as I was watching my beloved Pittsburgh Penguins get the tar beat out of them by those crummy Flyers an interesting thought occurred to me. I'm attracted to men who are missing some teeth. Before I go further, allow me to clarify. Specifically, I'm attracted to men who have had their teeth knocked out. As opposed to the men who let their teeth rot and fall out although with all the tobacco Henry has chewed, he appears to be heading down that road. But I digress.
When the camera pans over to Matt Cooke, there he is grinning a big tooth missing smile. And I get all warm and fuzzy inside. Last year before Ryan Malone dumped me and sold out to the Tampa Bay Lightening he stopped my heart with his black eye, broken nose and missing teeth. If I were a cat I'd probably be hanging out with the ugliest, most beat up ratty looking tom cat in the neighborhood. Surprising, since my husband is so very attractive and has not a facial flaw. (Seriously, me thinks.)
I also love a good gloves off hockey fight. If they're on the ice pounding the bejezus out of each other, I'm a happy girl. If someone bleeds and needs a towel, I'm even happier. It's a good thing I never get to see a hockey game in person or there is a good chance I'd be a hockey groupie. There I'd be, hanging out by the locker room long after the game is over, waiting for a beat up face to sink my hooks into.
Yes, the more beat up the Penguins look, the more I love them. Hey, hockey is a tough sport. In football, they line up, crash into each other, fall down and take a five minute break lining back up. In hockey, it's constant skating, smashing into each other, falling down, with NO BREAKS for minutes on end. Moving all the time. Now that's a real man. When there's a fight, the refs don't even bother to try breaking it up for a few minutes. Then it's off to the Sin Bin for a penalty. And they don't spend the whole game showing off every time they make one little good play. I mean, holy smokes, Goddard scored a goal yesterday and didn't even smile. Just skated back and kept on going. I'm in awe.
My theory is that this strange attraction is just something built into my primitive DNA. It's apparently there for procreation purposes to help me pick a mate who will pass on strong survival skills and fighting instincts. And I hear that with all the skating, hockey players have limber hips...I would gladly donate myself to research this. (In the name of science of course. )
So if any of you Penguins ever make it to Bedford County look me up...