The house is a hell of a place. Boozing, banging, and probably a little blowing down goes on in those hallowed walls, but that doesn’t mean it’s always exciting. Sometimes, especially in the dog days of summer, you need something to stir the pot a little. Sure, you could play your umpteen-thousandth game of Beerio Kart and order a pizza, but why not really stoke the competitive fires. Whiffle ball is a good look, or maybe a game of corn hole if you’re not feeling mobile, but the truest means of getting the day going is house hockey.
Played indoors, house hockey lends itself perfectly to the atmosphere of a fraternity house. It is high octane, it’s a little obnoxious, and it can get pretty damn brutal. When JB, the only guy who’s played a lick of hockey, throws that skinny JI through a screen door chances are people are going to react as if Marian Hossa just scored his 500th. Maybe, with enough booze involved, some of the guys will drop the figurative gloves and have a quick throwdown. It’s just dudes being dudes at its finest. It’s all the fun of hockey without having to worry about having knives on your feet. Win win.
The rules and equipment are simple. You can go anywhere from one-on-one to five-on-five. Grab an empty can of dip (or a full one if you’re a betting man) to use as a puck, some brooms for sticks, and a couple hampers as makeshift goals. Set them up in an ideally open area, and play some hockey. You can play by the book like those psychos in the NHL, or you can just go wild. I mean, don’t cherry pick or anything because that’s a dick move, but other than that have fun with it. Goalies are entirely optional, but they really just slow shit down. 1-1 is ideal to settle a score, or if you have a smaller than average house, but I find three-on-three to be the best option. It gives your degenerate boys a chance to throw a couple punches, and it gives the hyper-competitive types the opportunity to ball out. Puck out? Hell if I know.
The sport, which definitely needs to go national, combines destruction of property, drinking, and of course a little bit of gambling. Aside from the aforementioned dip bets, you can really spice things up by making it a regular thing. Challenge some of those fucks from across Greek Row to a game. Place the Stanley Keg as a bet, and invite their girlfriends to come watch you beat the shit out of their “men”. The next time they orgasm, it’ll be to the image of you checking their boyfriends into a counter and making a jerk off motion as you stand over a fallen opponent. They won’t even be able to watch The Cup without putting on a snorkel, cause hockey and forbidden romance makes women as frothy as the Mississippi. Will your eventual performance live up to such expectations? That’s for you to know and them to find out. The only thing you need to know is house hockey just got you laid, and that dominance is based on how well you can hit a can of Grizzly.
I envision a world where Greeks across the country engage in this beautiful game year round. Hockey is a certifiably F sport, what with its disregard for rules and millions of smoking hot groupies, so now’s the time to get in on the action. Rainy days will no longer be a day of resignation, spent in a dejected state and playing FIFA because there’s nothing better to do. Instead, get a little physical activity in and harness some skills. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll pull a reverse Happy Gilmore and find out your golf game translates better to hockey. Even if that isn’t the case, you’ll at least end up with a few killer bruises, and some stories to loosen up the puck chasers..