I don't get hockey. I know I have said that about other (or all) professional sports, but I really just don't get it. Matt and I have been to one other hockey game in our relationship and it was in the year 2000. I was clearly still a girlfriend that was trying to impress him by showing how "into" sports I was. Ha! That didn't last long. Last night, I came to the realization that all of my hockey knowledge was acquired from about 72 viewings of the movie, "The Mighty Ducks" starring the illustrious Emilio Estevez. What can I say, friends, 1992 was a good year for me. So armed with all the Walt Disney knowledge, I was totally prepared for the game. As usual, when we got to game, I quickly realized that we were seated next to "super fans." That is always our luck. Matt had the audacity to suggest that it might not so much be an issue of "super fans" as much as it is an issue of simply regular fans and me. Since I never appreciate a scenario where I am the odd person out, I immediately dismissed this idea. Here is what really chaps me about the super fan problem, it's that Matt is like a sports chameleon. I know for a fact that he doesn't know jack about hockey, yet he has this ability to morph into a fan no matter what the team or sport. Under pressure, he can spout off random facts, players' names and regulation grade trivia. This is supremely annoying. Speaking of annoying, coming in second to the single superfans are the totally adorable super fan couples who have their own really cute little dances and hand shakes when the team does well. Yuck. So to counter act this super saccharine display of team spirit I suggested that Matt and I devise a ridiculously elaborate routine whenever Team Hill does something awesome at a game. For example, two hip bumps and a low five whenever Matt brings me a gourmet pretzel from concessions. Or a two handed high five, fake chest bump followed by exploding "knucks" whenever Melissa goes an entire period without mistakenly cheering for the wrong team! Yes! Talk about team spirit!
So there we were, getting all pumped up for this game when my seatmate arrived to my left. It was really a rather large family all pimped out in their Stars gear and I was fortunate enough to get little sister #4 seated directly next to me. Actually to be more accurate, I was seated next to her hair. Once she got all settled in, she went through an elaborate routine of positioning her luxurious mane of hair. Where did her hair feel the most comfortable? Draped down the right side of my body of course. Hmmm. I don't much care for that. But after a little repositioning, I discovered that there was no escaping the hair sleeve I was being forced to wear. It was like a waist length waterfall that cradled my arm and side oh so lovingly. I felt like vomiting. Despite what I do for a living, it might come as a surprise that I am extremely uncomfortable with random child hair being draped across me. Since Matt had become instant best friends with Stan the super fan on his left, my only option was to lean as far across the armrest as I could and get as much of my upper body in Matt's seat as possible. It was a pose that smacked of desperation and it definitely looked like we don't get out much.
Whatever, I decided to amuse myself by people watching. There are some interesting people at hockey games and lots of yellers. The yellers are my favorite. There was one man who had worked himself into such a frenzy that he was practically frothing at the mouth. I found this super entertaining until I noticed what he was wearing. I then became consumed with worry that this man was about to scream himself into a heart attack while wearing acid washed jeans and a cream colored linen blazer. It could very well have been called ecru though, Matt said he thought maybe swiss coffee, but in retrospect, I think he was just being sarcastic. I told myself that if that man dropped dead, I would be forced to leap over the seats and rip that jacket off his lifeless body, because no one, even a man in acid washed jeans, deserves to yell himself to death in a Miami Vice cast off. I am super compassionate like that :)
So bottom line, here is what I think of hockey. It looks really hard. After all my loops around Texas Skatium, I still to this day cannot skate backwards, so I was really impressed. In fact, I think I am going to rank hockey players above even roller skating Sonic carhops on my list of jobs that I really respect. That's kind of a big deal.
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