I had the strangest dream the other night.
I was on the NDP hockey team, playing in a three-team game against the Liberals and the Conservatives. I was not actually supposed to have any ice time -- I was somebody's understudy (I don't think that's the term you use in sports, but don't know what else to call it). The other player got injured and I ended up playing.
While the Liberals and Conservatives were battling it out and everybody's attention was on them, I snuck off to the side of the rink where there was a line of shops, and this is apparently where the goals were scored. I had to run up what seemed like a million flights of stairs and remember being wowed by my own speed and agility. When I finally got to the top of the stairs, I burst into a sporting goods store and looked at the shop workers, yelling, "Where's the goal?!"
They pointed to a supermarket-type display of boxes stacked in this impossibly tall pyramid and there was something balanced on the very top of it. "Ladder!" someone yelled and then they were holding a rickety ladder beside the pyramid and I had to climb it rung by rung and I was petrified. I finally made it to the top, however, and retrieved what turned out to be a shiny saw (I’ve recently begun playing the musical saw. That’s another story).
I took the saw off the pyramid and stood on top of the ladder and raised it above my head like a trophy. Then I heard that obnoxious sound they make when somebody scores a goal. Everything went silent and stopped moving as I processed the fact that I had just scored the winning goal. Me: the rookie, the understudy, the wild card, the NDP’s unexpected hockey star. I woke up exhilarated and admittedly pleased with myself.
Today, I thought, is going to be a good day for the Canucks.