Bad hockey is such a very powerful "meh."
It's not angering or saddening or frustrating. It just makes everything feel like you didn't get quite enough sleep last night, but you got close to enough. It's like listening to a lecture in a class you don't need to take. Or reading a book of non-metered, non-rhyming poetry. A 1970's documentary with outdated information on the groundhog. Holiday gatherings with particularly boring family members you see twice a year at most. Jet lag for the soul. Like being out of wiper fluid when there's a dead bug that isn't really in the way, but you can't just ignore it.
Bad hockey is that kind of meh.