Hockey wives stickhandle lives and work off the ice

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 17/03/2015 (4211 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

The first thing you notice is the absence of shouting and screaming.

Whenever one ventures — with an abundance of caution, a slight sense of shame and, if one is wise, a ready finger on the “mute” button — into one of the many “unscripted” TV series that feature some combination of the words “real” and “housewives” (or its shortened form, “wives”) in their titles, one usually expects to encounter trashy behaviour, tacky over-privileged success, completely contrived confrontations and lots of bitchy snipping and screaming.

If you’re a fan of such married-women misbehaviour and are planning to tune in to the new W network series Hockey Wives to see puck-biz spouses dropping their gloves and F-bombs in classic Housewives-genre style, you’re in for a big disappointment.

Hockey Wives, it turns out, isn’t quite one of those shows.

Yes, it’s part of the “reality-TV” bracket, and yes, it features the (mostly) well-heeled spouses of pro athletes whose big-league salaries afford them a luxurious lifestyle, but Hockey Wives (which premières Wednesday at 9 p.m. on W) is actually a measured and calmly presented look at its subjects’ lives.

The eight-part series takes cameras inside the homes and daily routines of 10 women who are the wives or girlfriends of hockey players at varying stages in their careers — some are established NHL stars, while others are either struggling to get into the big league or fighting to hang on as they age out of the game.

And while some of the women display some of the over-the-top behaviour that is the hallmark of the Housewives brand, most of them turn out to be pretty normal people dealing with fairly relatable issues.

At one end of the spectrum is Noreen DeWulf, wife of Vancouver Canucks goaltender Ryan Miller and the closest this series has to a character who might fit into another Housewives show — a flighty, self-impressed actress (whose credits include the Charlie Sheen sitcom Anger Management) who’s fully immersed in the glitzy L.A. scene.

In the series opener, a newly pregnant DeWulf expresses concern about having to move to Vancouver as Miller relocates to join his new team. “The thing that scares me most about moving to Vancouver is the rain,” she offers. “My hair is a big part of my beauty, so the fact that I might be moving to an environment that would jeopardize that is just frightening.”

At the other end of the Hockey Wives spectrum is Emilie Blum, wife of defenceman Jonathan Blum, who’s been bouncing between the Minnesota Wild and its AHL affiliate, the Iowa Wild, but has not been able to stick with the big club.

She has given up her career as a U.S. army intelligence analyst to follow her husband as he pursues his hockey dream, and so far, the couple has found nothing in the way of geographic stability or financial security. She’s too busy packing and unpacking boxes to engage in any lavish-lifestyle antics.

The spouses featured in the series are spread around North America, so opportunities for the women to be in the same place long enough to create profanity-inspiring feuds are very limited.

Tiffany Parros speaks frankly (and tearfully) about being married to veteran NHL enforcer George Parros (who retired after this series was taped); similarly, Brijet Whitney — whose relationship with well-travelled NHLer Ray Whitney began in high school and spanned his entire 23-year pro hockey career — expresses some honest concerns about her husband’s pending retirement.

“If Ray retires, I’m anticipating some difficult times,” she says (Whitney, too, retired after this series taped). “I’ve heard that the divorce rate is, like, 75 per cent after players retire; we’re trying to remain out of the statistics.”

At the top of the Hockey Wives heap is Nicole Brown, wife of L.A. Kings captain Dustin Brown, a two-time Stanley Cup winner and the owner of an eight-year, $48-million contract. As the mother of four youngsters and the self-proclaimed CEO of the Brown household, she’s pretty direct in describing her role.

“There’s pressure and expectation on me to not disrupt him because he’s being paid lots of money to perform,” she says. “Dustin’s another person I have to take care of… I feel like I have five children instead of four.”

Mostly, Hockey Wives jumps from city to city, and from the U.S. to Canada, as it drops in on each of its featured spouses for short segments. Occasional scenes in which two or more of the women get together are the passages that feel the most staged and least “unscripted.”

The series pilot includes a dinner party at Brown’s home, where a half-dozen of the women come together for an evening of conversation. It’s easily the most contrived of the opener’s scenes and also produces one of the hour’s snippiest sound bites.

After listening to Brown go on about her plans for a leisurely life after Dustin’s retirement at the end of his lucrative deal, Parros seems a bit fed up.

“You can tell a person that hasn’t really been touched by injury or trades, because they’re oblivious to what other people are going through,” she tells the show’s obligatory confessional camera.

“I think the girls who are the most understanding are the girls who have gone through it.”

It’s pretty blunt, but it’s offered without raising a voice, throwing a glass of wine in someone’s face, or pulling anyone’s hair.

Hockey Wives is very un-Housewives-y, in a surprisingly pleasant way.

brad.oswald@freepress.mb.ca Twitter: @BradOswald

wfpvideo:4116766573001:wfpvideo