Something happened to me over the course of the month of May. A month I usually associate with Spring flowers and gardening, tuning up my bike and planning a summer getaway. Instead, I watched hockey. Yup - I watched the Stanley Cup playoffs, consumed with referee calls, injuries and scoring chances. Now you may think, "What's the big deal with you watching hockey?" Well, let me tell you...

I've lived in Canada all my life. I grew up in a small town on the official "snow belt" of Ontario. Winter sports were huge. Skiing, skating, curling, and of course, hockey. But I wasn't interested in winter sports. I guess being a summer baby gives me a natural aversion. I don't know.

So, I never cared about hockey. In fact, I went out of my way to not hang out with the "hockey hair boys" (or girls for that matter). I even had two older brothers - perfect candidates for donning skates, and hitting slap shots - but neither of them played.

But in the year 2002 I witnessed the gold medal winning Olympic game and I was excited. I was hoarse from yelling and physically and emotionally exhausted after the game ended. I liked hockey.

And with the Toronto Maple Leafs making it to the conference finals, I was again enthralled and rooting for the home team. Sitting on the edge of my seat, watching game 6 and the crazy goal in the last thirty seconds that led to the umpteenth overtime. And then the devastation of losing. I was really upset. I felt like I had lost something too. It was a weird feeling.

So forget all that reality TV schlock...Survivor, The Mole, The Bachelor, Fear Factor. Give me some reality hockey any day.

Catherine A. Thomson lives and works in Toronto, Canada.