With news so slow these days, I've found myself thinking less about what happens on the ice and more about the culture of hockey fans and fandom. It's easy to say that sports are a common thing that bonds us, but there's that truth about hockey fans being extra passionate. I've  become instant friends with random people all over the world because of that hockey-fan connection. I'm sure plenty of readers have had their moments like this, and on during the off-season doldrums, I thought it'd be fun if to revisit some of these times.

Here are three of my favorite hockey memories that don't have anything to do with the a shot or a save. Feel free to share yours in the comments.

The Truth About Owen Nolan
The best vacation I ever took was a multi-city international jaunt that started in Rochester, New York, then roadtripped up to Toronto and Ottawa. My best hockey pal (an Ottawa Senators fan that grew up in California -- go figure) and I flew out to meet our Rochester friend who knew next-to-nothing about hockey. Even still, that friend agreed to drive us to games at the Air Canada Centre and Corel Centre back in late February 2003.

As native San Jose Sharks followers, all the talk was about whether or not Owen Nolan would get moved. On the flight out, Sens-fan friend and I talked about how neat it'd be if the rumored Nolan-to-Toronto trade actually happened while we were there. And on our first night in Toronto, he got a call from his girlfriend -- Nolan was just shipped off, and we had tickets to his first game.

The next morning, the Nolan news was everywhere. Even the chalkboard outside the Irish pub by the Hall of Fame had "Welcome Owen Nolan" written on it. We walked into a sports memorabilia shop, and the owner was on the phone trying to figure out when they could get Nolan jerseys in. When he got off the phone, he must have heard us talking about how Nolan was injury prone and overrated because he asked what we thought of the deal. We told him that we were from San Jose, that Nolan was moody and inconsistent, and frankly, we were happy to be rid of him. A customer asked us if that was true, and we emphatically shook our heads, telling him that he'd probably be good for a week or two before getting hurt.

The customer left and the owner yelled at us for scaring off his business, then told us to go back to San Jose. We left with a mutual smirk on our faces, and even during the game (Vancouver at Toronto), we shook our heads as the crowd chanted Nolan's name following his two goals. "They won't be doing that in a year," my friend said.

In the following months, Nolan lived up to our projections of being injury prone and inconsistent. And every time he had a bad game, I wondered if that shopkeeper remembered those two guys from San Jose who warned him about this.

Senators Fan From California?
A few nights later, we found ourselves in Ottawa for the Senators/Leafs game that featured Tie Domi knocking the bejesus out of Magnus Arvedson, along with drunken fan brawls on our way out of the Corel Centre. As we cruised out of Kanata, we looked for an Ottawa pub to have a late-night pint. At a stop light, the car next to us started honking his horn. We looked over and the guy motioned us to roll down the window.

"Are you guys from California?" the guy asked. We looked at each other and realized that our Rochester friend still had his California plates. We said yes and asked why.

"It's March in Ottawa. What the f*&! are you doing here?"

A broad smile came across my friend's face. He was still wearing his autographed Marian Hossa jersey from the game, and he lifted the Sens crest up to the window to show the driver. "Senators, baby!" he said.

The driver first flashed a matching grin and told my friend, "Go Sens go." The light turned green and he pulled away, though I'm sure he probably still remembers the story of the random California car with the Senators fan in it.

British Hockey Fans Exist
After I graduated college, I bartended in London (England, not Ontario) for a few months, and during that time, I'd heard of a place off Charing Cross Road called SportsPages. Local scuttlebutt tabbed this place as a treasure trove for the international sports fan, with magazines and books about every sport from all over the world. Remember, this was back in 2000, when a lot of people still had dial-up modems and online coverage was limited to AP reports from the major network sites.

I found SportsPages during a day off and was shocked to see copies of The Hockey News sitting on the shelf, along with a British hockey magazine and several NHL yearbooks. The shopkeeper, an elder British gentleman, saw me skimming the hockey section and asked if I was a hockey fan.

Was I a fan? I told him that I was from the Bay Area but grew up a Chicago Blackhawks fan, and now we had season tickets for the San Jose Sharks.

"Sharks fan, huh?" he said. "What do you think of that Patrick Marleau? He's pretty soft."

At first, I didn't know what to say. Not that I didn't agree with him (Marleau WAS pretty soft back then), but there was a surreal and absurd quality to the conversation. Here I was in the middle of one of London's busiest shopping districts discussing Patrick Marleau with an old British shopkeeper. How the heck did that happen?

When I got my bearings, I told him that I was willing to give Marleau a few years. The fellow then told me that he wasn't a fan of Vincent Damphousse either, especially because he wore a visor. He also mentioned that he tried to make it out to Joe Louis Arena for a Red Wings game every year.

As I paid for my British hockey magazine, I picked up the schedule for the London Knights. The shopkeeper asked if I wanted to go to a game; he had tickets and he'd be happy to take me. However, my plane was leaving just a few days before the Knights' home opener, so I unfortunately wouldn't be able to make it. Part of me still kicks myself for not trying to re-schedule my flight so I could make that game, especially since the Knights became extinct a few years later.

I just found out Sportspages closed up shop a few weeks ago, which is too bad since I was looking forward to visiting again someday. Its spirit lives on, though, in Word Of Sport, an online bookshop.

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Has being a hockey fan brought you memorable moments away from the ice? Leave your story in the comments, I'd love to hear them.