Sarah Palin, Beer and Hockey: A Love Story.

One of the most...let's call it "memorable" quotes that former Vice Presidential Candidate Sarah Palin made during her months of cringe-worthy campaigning was the following: "The difference between a hockey mom and a pit bull? Lipstick."

I remember when the media first started citing this quote from Palin. I also remember my reaction: what the hell is she talking about? Not that this is a strange reaction to anything that comes out of that woman's mouth. Generally quotes from her end with a contorted face and the scratching of the head, but this time was for a different reason entirely. I remember thinking something along the lines of "Oh that is just so Northern of her."

Growing up, hockey was always something that I associated with frozen tundras, maple syrup and horrible nasal accents. It's a sport, yeah, but not really .

Once I moved to Chicago, my opinion didn't change all that much. I stumbled upon free prime tickets to Blackhawks games on two separate occasions, but used the games more as opportunities to drink overpriced beers and flirt than to actually watch the games. Sure, people were running around on ice with sticks and a puck. But you know what else was icy? This beer some dude just bought me. Beer 1, Hockey 0. Thanks, dude.

Then, I started dating one of those hockey-crazed dudes. I saw the similarities between him watching a Hawks game and my Dad watching a Tennessee football game. Screaming at the television? Check. Cursing at players that can't (and never will) hear you? Check. Multiple beers consumed? Check. Maybe there was something to this hockey thing. My patient boyfriend was an excellent teacher of all things hockey related. I started to understand this strange sport that wasn't really much more than a hybrid of soccer, football and ice skating. It was rugby on ice...but not.

Things started getting serious around playoffs time. First, I flew my Yankee boyfriend (Hawks hat and all) down to meet my family. Soon after, I was watching my first hockey game alone...voluntarily. Round 1, game 1, Blackhawks. Screaming at the television? Check. Cursing at players that would never hear me? Check. Multiple beers consumed? Check.

A few hundred hours of playoff games, and one very irritated face from those Playoff Beard kisses later, I'm back down South for the summer, and my (new) team is in the Stanley Cup Finals. I've gained a whole wealth of knowledge about a sport I never would have imagined I'd be interested in.

Sarah Palin and I now have two whole things in common, which actually makes me slightly ill, and I've fallen in love with two things since I started watching hockey: the Blackhawks, and Patrick Kane. As for the hockey-teaching boyfriend? He's alright too.