This past Saturday my grandmother and I helped my mom celebrate her birthday at the Red Wings game in downtown Detroit. This is the inaugural year for the Winnipeg Jets, formerly the Atlanta Thrashers. The original Winnipeg Jets moved Phoenix and became the Coyotes in 1996, but the new Jets team has been welcomed with open arms by everyone except Detroit, who beat them 7-1. (This has nothing to do with my point, I just think it’s interesting.)
With eight goals scored it would be an understatement to say it was an action-packed game, but what got our attention even more than the goals was how slippery the ice seemed to be. I’m sure you’re thinking, Duh, it’s ice. Of course it’s slippery, but no one seemed to tell the players. They were falling all over each other—tripping over teammates, slipping in the middle of the ice when no one else was near, and my favorite, toppling headfirst onto the ice while trying to start a shift. Falling is a part of hockey, but it was borderline absurd how often the players bit it.
The next morning I watched the game highlights on the news, eager to see the clumsiness repeated, but all they showed were the goals. Not a single stumble made the cut. At first I was disappointed, but that’s when it struck me that sometimes the parts that make you laugh the most don’t progress the story. They’re just bits of fluff that—while hilarious—have no place in the final draft.
A good reminder for me as I head into my own edits.