What do Paul Henderson and a Sherpa have in common? Ever wonder if Sir Edmund Hillary would be good on the powerplay, or stayed up at night pondering how fast a slap shot would travel at 18, 000 feet above sea level?

Confused? I certainly was when I first got wind of the first ever ‘high altitude hockey game’ to be played on top of Mount Everest this past week. On Thursday, a group of Canadian mountain climbers challenged a group of Russian mountain climbers to a game of shinny on an Everest glacier at an altitude of approximately 17, 575 feet.

The game has been aptly dubbed ‘The Real Summit Series’ in a nod to Canada’s greatest hockey victory over the Soviet Union in 1972, and promised “to take Canadian hockey to new heights.” Stop laughing, this thing is for real.

Despite the awful puns, this game is certainly an intriguing concept. Players already talk about how the high altitudes affect the game when playing in Denver in the heart of the Rocky Mountains. Whether it means kicking longer field goals at Invesco Field or hitting more homeruns at Coors Field, the thin air is assumed to have a definite impact on all players, not to mention causing these athletes to need oxygen masks after every play.

But Invesco Field at a mile high and Coors Field at only 5280 feet above sea level are nothing compared to the world’s tallest mountain. Try tripling those heights and then we’ll start talking about thin air.

I wonder how fast a sea level-slapshot would be at over 17, 000 feet? I suggest we send Al MacInnis up Everest one day to find out, but I digress.

The surprisingly lengthy rulebook for this contest outlines the procedures for game play. The game was played on a ‘glink’ (glacier + rink) that had a minimum size of 20mX10m, and had no maximum size. The teams played seven on seven, with one ‘glacier-blocker’ who occupies the ‘glease’ (glacier + crease).

The game was overseen by a ‘sherperee’ (sherpa + referee, but enough with the wordplay already) who calls penalties and starts and stops the time. The players were not permitted to wear skates, and were forced to wear ‘legal boots with rubber soles’.

No protective equipment was required for the match, but players were encouraged to ‘protect important areas of their body,’ which is definitely understandable. I certainly wouldn’t want to take a high altitude slapper in the…well, I’m sure you get the idea.

The expedition received a formal sendoff on March 3 and was presented with vintage Team Canada jerseys by ’72 team member Ron Ellis, who affirmed, “The Team of the Century’s amazing victory in 1972 will now be honoured on top the world.”

One can’t help but wonder if one of the greatest and symbolic moments in Canadian hockey history isn’t somewhat cheapened by this apparent ‘honour’.

This novel event provided a great deal of entertainment, but I think it’s important to see this game for what it truly is: a fun and clever marketing ploy used by a company trying to get a little market exposure. Kanatek Technologies, an IT company based in Mississauga, sponsored the expedition, and was following the long-held tradition of using hockey as a means to market itself to the Canadian public. Whether it’s cell phones, investment plans, or, more obviously, beer, companies have always tried to use hockey in this way-talking sticks and pucks in order to sell pints and phones.

The results of the game are not yet known, but let’s hope our Canadian boys added one more victory, albeit a strange one, to the Canadian hockey résumé. The air may have be thin, but I’m sure the tension between these two hockey juggernauts was thick enough to cut with a knife.