Just when everyone else is starting to feel a spring breeze and see crocuses and daffodils peek out from the thawing ground, my native Montreal got its biggest snow dump of the season. And listen: I’m a Canadian. I know about snow. Winter is for skiing, tobogganing and, most importantly, hockey, our home-and-native-sport.
For fans, hockey makes the cold season the best time of the year—but not when four feet of fresh powder fall at the tail end of February. Everyone’s got their breaking point. So what’s a hockeyhead to do? Go see a game in SoCal, that’s what.
The California breakaway
Picture it: the Vancouver Canucks vs. the Anaheim Ducks at the venerated Pond (that is, the Honda Center in Anaheim) on February 27, and I got an invite to attend as part of an intimate press trip courtesy of Visit Huntington Beach.
So what if U.S.-Canadian relations are frostier than they should be these days? So what if Montreal, the birthplace of hockey, was celebrating the 150th anniversary of the game’s invention that very week? So what if the Montreal Canadiens—one of the NHL’s Original Six teams—was still in the running for a potential record-breaking 36th playoff season? It’s worth missing a few home games to get a hit of California sunshine.
And, it turns out, California does hockey totally differently—and in many ways, better.
Number one is the lifestyle
There’s no doubt that waking up to blinding sunshine and an endless row of palm trees is a better way to pregame in every way. This was my game day: free community yoga on the beach (crystal bowl sound bath included), a life-changing surf lesson with former pro Rocky McKinnon, a bike ride along the coast and incredible food. I’m talking filet mignon tacos at Primecut Taqueria and a mountainous beet and arugula salad topped with buttery salmon from Jolie, mere feet from the Huntington Beach Pier. (Though I was here on a press trip, these are all activities that are available to all who visit—and to those who are lucky enough to live here.) A couple of cocktails later, it was time to head to Anaheim.
Not far behind: the chill factor
One of the most different things about a nontraditional hockey market like Southern California’s seems to be nonpartisanship. Though I was there with a couple of Vancouver friends, as a lifelong, legacy Canadiens fan I was watching the game without a dog in the race. It was incredibly freeing. I sat there smiling, enjoying the chat and the plays and the drinks and the crowd’s energy, even when—spoiler—the Canucks got annihilated 5–2.
But based on convos with locals, it seems many fans here are just as impartial, cheering for whichever of the three local-ish teams—the Ducks, the Los Angeles Kings and, quite a few hours farther north, the San Jose Sharks—is doing better at the time, or going to games based on the appeal of the arena itself (or straight up how easy it is to drive in and out of it).
Leading me to: the Pond itself
My ride into the Honda Center from the gorgeous Paséa Hotel & Spa, perched on the coast, was a cool 45 minutes, door to door. It’s a grand arena indeed. Gleaming in pink and cream marble (Montreal’s Bell Centre wishes), the circular, column-lined walkway that encircles the ice is wide enough to host a horde of giants and peppered with snack counters (hellooo, pulled pork sammies and pineapple soft serve), merch tables and full-service bars.
I daresay there isn’t a bad (comfortably padded) seat in the house, with plunging sightlines on the ice that make you feel like you’re at the heart of every slapshot and missed pass.
The Pond is the existing centerpiece of a development-in-the-making, a 100-acre project called OCVIBE that’s set to turn the area into an entertainment hub including a hotel, a park, restaurants, retail, residential buildings, a concert hall and intimate venues like a revival of the storied Golden Bear nightclub.
And that signature SoCal-style entertainment
Luck of the draw, when I went to the game it just happened to be a special one-night-only Come Out and Play Night party featuring the Offspring, Orange County’s own iconic ’90s band and basically the soundtrack to my best angsty years. Not only were they there in person but nearly every bit of music between plays and periods was theirs. It was a blast, and along with the light show, flame throwing, kiss cam and DJ antics courtesy of the Ducks’ own emcee, JoJo Maestrado, the whole shebang was just that: a bang, a well-rounded Hollywood-level night of entertainment.
My conclusion: Maybe being a halftime fan is easier than being hardcore. Just as living in a land of sunshine is mostly easier than surviving in a place that dumps snow on your head six months a year. Legacy fandom is a heavy weight to bear. And the next morning, with the sun on my skin and the surf between my toes, hockey just didn’t seem that serious after all.