On Shoresy (and necks as thick as tree trunks)

When twenty minutes of stupidity is satisfying

My husband, over dinner, asked if I wanted to watch a comedy about hockey he started with his friends last week.

Probably not…

“Sure.”

We collapsed, as toddler parents do, on our sofa and started the pilot episode of Shoresy.

It’s been a week, and we’re deep into the second season.

This isn’t a show I’d watch of my own accord. Set in Sudsbury, it’s an unholy echo of a dirty Ted Lasso, unfolding on an ice hockey rink in Quebec instead of a football pitch in the UK. The main character, a fast-talking, tooth-missing Shoresy, only wants two things: bums in seats, and never to lose a game.

As a tall, burly, solid hockey player, you’d expect his gruff voice to rumble like thunder. Instead, the first time he opens his mouth, Shoresy sounds more like a high-pitched, squealing, adolescent girl. The absurdity of his tone of voice only adds to reasons to like him.

It’s a stupid show, but it’s written so sharply, so delightfully laced with rapid one-ups and insults, I merely shrug when my husband asks if we should watch another episode. The team manager, a stoic, lithe, woman is refreshingly hellbent to make history through the sport. Always flanked by her two assistants (also women), they’re reminiscent of a mob boss with her silently severe cronies.

And the team? Talk about a motley crew of ‘sluts’ (their words): always opening their door for a rotating line of Instagram-perfect women, licking ice cream cones with glee after games. Shoresy makes sure they ‘call their parents’ dutifully following each win. When the sweat-soaked, bedraggled players grin, the gaps in their knocked-out teeth are as big as Idaho.

Shoresy love-loathes all of his teammates (“when’s the last time you scored, huh?”), hurling insults while wet-farting on the toilet, his pep-talks sounding more like big brother bullying. Everyone has their limelight of objectification and being objectified. But, aw, they’re cute when they win!

I don’t like this show, but I enjoy it immensely. Irreverently. If you’re an American keeping up with the dismal political news/circus everyday, don’t we need 25 minutes of harmless, deeply silly Canadian stories? The reluctant answer: f&c% yeah, ya loser.