Nascar on ice

Oh holy lord. Last night, I fell in love with hockey.

After work last night I made a brief stop at my parents house to eat some home made meatloaf with my dad. I was on my way home for an uneventful night of watching a tivo'd episode of Battlestar Galactica when Jordan called me up and invited me to a Seattle Thunderbirds hockey game at Key arena and since I lacked any real plans for the evening, I agreed to meet them at the game. I then invited my buddy Ethan to tag along, he agreed, and we made our way to the Key for a night of mullets and mayhem!

After a particularly traffic-hindered drive from Sammamish to Seattle, Ethan and I picked up our comped tickets at the will call window and joined the rest of the Seattle hockey crowd shuffling into the arena. Once inside, Ethan and I were rendered speechless by the almost dangerous concentration of mullets and beer guts that seemed to afflict nearly 80% of the sports fans that surrounded us.

It was at this moment that we ran into Kevin and Jordan as they stumbled towards the outdoor smoking section on perilously unsteady drunken legs. Kevin was already well into a blackout drunk and, since it was only 8pm and he had already drunkenly accosted several total strangers on his way to the smoking section, I got the feeling that my night was about to get much more interesting.

Our seats were amazing. Were only about 20 feet from the Ice; close enough to hear bones crack as players were repetitively body-checked against the Plexiglas barrier between the crowd and ring. Ethan and I amused ourselves by inventing our own remarkably generic sports cheer (we would simply jump to out feet and yell "SPORTS!!" at opportune moments)and by frequently turning to each other and exclaiming "We're at a hockey game!!" and then collapsing into a fit of nerdy, nerdy giggles.

By the time the second period had started Kevin had managed to reach the nearly impossible to achieve state of "too drunk for a hockey game" and was loudly berating the row of fans in front of us because they were, as he so eloquently phrased it, "FUCKING EMO HIPPIE CANUCKS". Brilliant. It was at this point that Jordan, also far to drunk to be in a public place, finally lost his evening-long battle with beer-induced nausea and deposited the majority of his dinner and drinks back into several empty plastic cups which he then hid beneath his seat.

Kevins belligerence reached critical mass when the remote controlled "prize blimp" floated near our seats and denied him one of the fabulous prizes hidden within its nylon exterior. Enraged by being passed over for free extra large Thunderbirds t-shirt or foam beer cozy , Kevin decided to voice his frustration by stealing a full bottle of Pepsi from the 13 year-old boy to his left and hurling it at the blimp. At this point his relationship with the surrounding sports fans went from "mild annoyance" to "soon-to-be-dead honky". When a fist fight between Kevin and the child's justifiably infuriated father seemed inevitable security took this as Kevins cue to leave and, admidst his drunken assertions of his 4th amendment rights, escorted him out of the arena.

I must admit that this epic display of maturity and wit put a momentary damper on the night for me. Then, for the first time in my life, I witnessed the pure beauty that is the Zamboni Ice groomer. The third quarter started and I was back in the game. The 'birds closed the gap and tied up the score and the game went into overtime. The crowd was insane and I found myself on my feet with everyone else screaming at the top of my lungs with every shot. The opposing teams goalie, a kid with the very unfortunate last name of "Sexsmith" was subjected to an amazing amount of heckling by the drunken band of hockey fans behind us who chanted his name for impossibly long stretches of time and occasionally hurled comments like "I really care about you, Sexsmith" and "Blocking shots with your apron doesn't count, Sexsmith". It was amazing.

Long story short: The Thunderbirds won, the crowd went crazy, and we walked back to the squad chanting Seeeeeexsmiiiiith at the top of our lungs as a jubilant victory cry. Upon arriving we ate Liz Dobsons amazing spaghetti, drank root beer, and played several rousing rounds of Boggle. Ethan and I then took the long walk up to Lindas and enjoyed several well deserved bottles of High-life with Casey, Leiah, Mildred, and Andrew.

We briefly hit a house party after the bars closed but I was exhausted from the Hockey game and drove home at around 3. All in All, a great time with great friends.

Now I am off to a SuperBowl party at Ryans....If I keep this up people might start thinking I'm a sports fan or something.

weird...