Chatching Up and Another Essay
Saturday, January 26th, 2008Well it has been quite some time since my last post. Part of this was due to a hosting change and just life being crazy for those who have assisted me in running this page (thank you Scott and David for all your help….. I owe you guys a beer next time I am in town!) and things being a little crazy in my life. But since my last post a few holidays have past, I turned another year older (i’m now 27), a new year has started, my new niece was born on January 14th and she is a cutie, I found out that I have another nephew on the way, school ended and has started again and life seems to be getting back to normal (whatever that means). I was very happy when my last class ended. I did enjoy the class but the final paper posed a challenge and I was tied to my laptop and desktop computers for about four weeks working on it. But before that essay we did a descriptive essay. We had to write about a memory, person, place or experience. We had done a journal entry just before this essay to get us ready for it. I had just gone to a hockey game and decided to write about my “first” hockey experience. I really don’t even remember my first hockey game so I kinda made it into more of a “story” for me to write. Well with out further ado here is what I wrote.
Hockey Experience
I remember watching hockey games on television with my dad and brothers when I was growing up. We were definitely a “hockey family”. Then one day my dad told me that he and I would be attending a game in person. I was so happy and excited, I just couldn’t wait to go. My first hockey game was an experience that I will never forget.
I remember walking out of Cobo Arena and into the cold dark night. The sky was clear and a swift cool breeze was blowing off of the river. We began to walk the bumpy sidewalk that was or path from Cobo to Joe Louis Arena. As we walked I could see gray steps looming up ahead of us. There seemed to be hundreds of them and I felt my knees go weak just at the mere though of having to climb them all. We finally reached the steps and my hand touched the smooth cool metal of the handrail as we began our journey upward. When we finally reached the top of the stairs we stood in line to give our tickets to the ushers just inside the huge orange doors that would allow us access to the Joe. I remember turning around while waiting in line and I could see that the Detroit River looked as black as the night sky. The Ambassador Bridge stood tall and proud in the distance. Thousands of lights were shining off the bridge and I could see the white headlights and red taillights of cars crossing over the dark river.
We finally got to the usher and gave him our tickets. The sounds and smells that hit me almost knocked me over. I could smell pizza fresh from the oven, beer fresh from the tap and nacho cheese hanging in the air. I could hear hundreds of conversations as we passed groups of people trying to find our section. I was afraid that I was going to be swallowed by the masses of people and never be able to find my dad. But he kept a firm grip on my sleeve and always made sure that there was enough room between people for both him and me. We finally reached our section. I felt as if we had walked miles to get there. Then to my horror and surprise I saw more stairs. The good news was that we would be walking down this set of stairs. We got to our row and I was never so happy to see a cushion covered in red torn leather in all my life. It was then that I realized that we were only a few rows away from the glass that separated us from the ice and the hockey players. Being so close to ice there was a cool breeze blowing causing the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge. I then noticed just how big the players were up close and personal. It was like I was watching giants out on the ice. That was when the music began to play. I could feel the vibrations in my chest and it seemed as if the music was coming from inside of me. The ground shook from the shear force of the music.
The players finished their warm ups and the zambonis hit the ice. They looked like enormous ice eating monsters. I didn’t know how anyone could keep something that large under control on such a slippery surface as the ice. My dad and I sat back in our seats and waited for the game to begin. I began looking around the area. I saw the banners of pervious championships hanging from the rafters and got a certain feeling of pride. Though I wasn’t alive when those championships were won it was still a proud moment for a Red Wings fan. I could also smell the popcorn that the couple a few seats down was eating. I began to wonder what I could get my dad to buy for me to eat. But that thought didn’t get too far when the Wings came back onto the ice and the crowd erupted in a loud cheer. Then an announcer, which I still don’t know where he is in the building, told everyone to stand for the national anthem. A singer appeared on the ice and began to sing. I could faintly hear fans singing along with her. It was quite an experience to have all of those people singing along to such a special song. Then it was time for the game to begin.
Hockey is a fast paced game but is seems ten times faster when you are in the arena. I had a very hard time following the little black puck on the ice. I began to think that it was much easier to follow things at home when the sports announcers were telling you what was going on and where the puck was moving on the ice. But after a few minute I picked it up and got to enjoy the game. Then just as I settled in two players crashed into the glass which seemed like just feet away from my face. I jumped out of my seat as the thin pane of glass shuddered and made a rumbling noise. I heard my dad chuckle to himself at my reaction. Hey I was new to this and didn’t know what to expect when two of the large men came skating toward me.
Soon the first period was over and my stomach was rumbling almost so loud I thought the people sitting next to me could hear it over the commotion in the arena. I turned toward my dad and gave my best puppy dog eyed look. He took me to the concourse to see what we could find to eat. I had already had dinner and really wanted ice cream. We walked over to the ice stand and my dad ordered me a superman filled waffle cone. My eyes grew big when he handed me the large waffle cone stuffed full of superman ice cream. It was the first time I had to eat ice cream out of a cone with a spoon. We walked back to our seats and it took me until the end of the second period to finish my ice cream.
Once the third period started I was beginning to feel a little sleepy. Hockey games didn’t seem to last that long while watching it on TV. I was almost so tired I could have fallen asleep even with the crowd of thousands creating a ton of noise around me. Though I did manage to stay awake. The blow horn going off when the Wings scored was enough to raise the dead.
Finally the game was over and it was time to go back home. Again my dad and I walked through the masses of people that were in red and white of some sort. Then we walked out the orange doors and down the long flight of stairs. Then we slowly made our way back along the cracked and bumpy side walk that led to Cobo.
I will never forget my first experience of watching a hockey game at Joe Louis Arena. It was a special time with my dad. The Wings won the game and all seemed right in the world.
