I’ve seen a trend on my socials recently documenting the female experience of watching a hockey game in person, charmingly referred to as visiting “the boy aquarium.” Let me tell you, this is my favourite way to describe watching hockey. I truly love the boy aquarium. Live hockey is a thrill like no other, I don’t even follow the sport, but get me in a comfy seat with a beer and pretzel in hand to watch grown men shred ice, yell at each other, and fight? I’m in.
All critical analysis of gender roles, the patriarchy, and toxic masculinity go right out the window. I’m elated. They’re beautiful in their primal, sweaty, angry states. And I get to feel so safe behind the plexiglass. Just another spectator! As long as this barrier keeps me shielded I’m happy to participate in this cultural phenomenon.
But please, for the love of god, don’t let them out. Like piranhas, they’re fascinating to observe, but dangerous if you get too close. The boy aquarium is where we go to look, but never dare to touch (seriously, they’re a hazard to society).
Darien Johnsen is a UFV alumni who obtained her Bachelor of Arts degree with double extended minors in Global Development Studies and Sociology in 2020. She started writing for The Cascade in 2018, taking on the role of features editor shortly after. She’s passionate about justice, sustainable development, and education.