Intro to (ice) hockey

The other day, I went for my first hockey game (I used to call it an ice hockey match, until MetroHom gently chided me about not needing to use the word 'ice' and Delta pointed out it was a 'game' not a 'match'.)
"Hey don't blame me, I didn't grow up in this country!" I responded, my usual fall back when things aren't going my way.

It was a Rangers vs. Devils (New York vs. New Jersey) game in Madison Square Garden. So as you can imagine, a lot of hype and excitement and good humoured competitiveness. In days before the game I started working myself up into a fever pitch of excitement. It was all hockey this, hockey that at work (initially ice hockey this, ice hockey that until I was corrected).

Along with our tickets, we got free vouchers for Rangers hats that we could redeem at a small souvenir booth in MSG. Have you ever tried locating a small booth in MSG? It was like searching for a peanut in a labrynth. We went up escalators and down escalators and up corridors and down corridors and around corners, with no sign of success. Finally, we asked one of the ushers standing nearby if he knew where it was, and even he didn't have a clue. By then, it was getting close to game time, and we had to head towards our seats (oh, way up there at the top).

"What's your seat numbers? I'll come find you when I've located the booth," the usher said.
We gave him our seat numbers and headed off, knowing full well he'd never come find us in this crowded stadium with tens of thousands of people.
But boy, were we wrong. Twenty minutes later there he was, tapping us on the shoulders, having fought his way through the crowds to tell us where we could collect our free hats. Oh, how we underestimate the tenacity of the human heart.

The game itself was everything I had hoped for. The adrenaline, the collective energy of the crowds, the speed and dexterity of the players. It had the entrancing effect of a movie theatre, making you unconsciously keep eating a steady stream of popcorn (except here it was peanuts).
"Here's what you should do," Delta told me, as he passed me my first handful of peanuts. "Crack them open, and just drop the shells on the floor by your feet."
"What do you mean?!" I asked, horrified, "you mean just make a mess?!"
"Yeah, that's just what people do at a hockey game. Just go with it. Make a mess! You'll enjoy it!"
I was mortified. I watched him eating peanuts and dropping the shells all around recklessly. Tentatively, I opened a peanut shell, and popped the peanuts into my mouth. I gingerly placed the shells in the corner, by my foot. Fifteen minutes later, when the game broke for a break, Delta glanced over my way.
"Where are your peanut shells?!" he asked. For I had eaten many peanuts by now, and he had expected to see a whole host of shells, but there were none visible on the floor.
I shifted my foot.
And there they all were, placed neatly together in a tiny pile in the corner. We both burst out laughing, for indeed the delicateness did look pretty pathetic in this raucus atmosphere. "You can't watch a hockey game like that!!!!" Delta admonished, shaking his head.

And that was the moment when Ficali McPipe started eating her peanuts with reckless abandon, throwing shells any which way. It's a liberating feeling. Try it, folks. Only at a (ice) hockey game though.

This was a great first game to watch, supporting the home team through a last minute victory. When the last, deciding goal was scored, the stadium (me included) went collectively wild. Delta and I were jubilant for the rest of the evening.

The next day, back at work, Richie Rich asked me, "so, did you enjoy being at the game yesterday? I watched it on the telly."
"Yeah, it was amazing! Such a close game, and there was so much energy in the crowds!"
"Yeah, too bad Devils won, it would have been even better if your team had won."
Huh? I was sure the Rangers had won. I had cheered for and watched the Rangers win. But immediately, I was full of doubt.
"Erm, I think the Rangers won," I said uncertainly.
"Seriously?!!! I was watching the match. I saw Devils score that last goal!"

Crap!! Had I been cheering for the wrong team? Had I really got that confused?
"Oh. I really thought Rangers won," I said, very softly, no no longer sure of myself at all.
"Ha, ha, Ficali, you're right, I was just yanking your leg," Richie Rich laughed.

What! I narrowed my eyes. "I did get the game, you know," I retorted.
But Richie Rich was already rounding the corner, chuckling to himself.

Bah! Some people just don't appreciate hockey like I do.