Part Six: In Which The Blogger Gets Nostalgic On All O' Y'all

Once upon a time, this Non-Fan was very much a Fan. I'd mentioned my past obsession with hockey cards in a previous post, and for this post I've decided to give you all a special treat: the story of the first (and only) NHL hockey game I've ever been to. But I warn you in advance, this one's positively dripping with nostalgia, so if you're not the sentimental type you'd probably be better off skipping this one.

Storytelling time in 3... 2... 1...

I don't know exactly what it was about hockey that grabbed my attention so thoroughly, but whatever it was sure did its job well. If I wasn't watching a game on TV, reading about it in the newspaper or Sports Illustrated for Kids (I had a subscription but never bothered reading the articles that weren't about the NHL), playing NHL 98 on my dad's computer or obsessing over hockey cards I was dreaming about someday being good enough with a stick for my adventures as a goalie in the local basketball court-turned-street hockey rink to be anything less than tragedy, and yet somehow through all this I'd never managed to whine my parents into submission long enough for them to choke up the cash to pay for a trip to GM Place for a game.



However, as you've probably guessed by now, one day in 1998 (or was it '97?) that all changed. See, now at the time my two favourite hockey teams were probably the New Jersey Devils (in retrospect I can't really remember why I was a Devils fan, but apparently I was) and the Vancouver Canucks (hometown pride, obviously), and any time those two played each other it was like watching the Clash of the Titans - just instead of gigantic mythological beasts beating the crap out of each other, it was a bunch of overpaid athletes on skates whacking a tiny rubber puck with curved sticks.

So, knowing this, imagine my surprise when one day my father comes home from work bearing two golden tickets (seriously, if I remember correctly the tickets really did have gold colouring on them) to see the New Jersey Devils at the Vancouver Canucks at GM Place, to see these two great Titans doing battle in the Garden of Earthly Delights itself! (Note for future reference: whenever I say something completely insane in the future, just think of the time I called GM Place 'the Garden of Earthly Delights' and it won't seem that wacked after all)

Needless to say, when I found this out the first thing I did was to get started on making my own game poster. Inspired by how people always seem to be holding up big huge cardboard signs with messages like "TREVOR LINDEN HAVE MY BABIES" or "OUR TEAM LOGO MAY LOOK LIKE A DOLPHIN WITH A BAD CASE OF CONSTIPATION BUT IT'S STILL BETTER THAN THAT SONIC THE HEDGEHOG CRAP YOU'VE GOT ON YOUR JERSEYS, EDMONTON", I thought it'd only be natural to make a sign of my own. However, my sign-making capabilities were severely limited by A: the fact that I didn't have any paper larger than the standard office-size 8x11" and B: the fact that I had no idea whether I wanted the Canucks to win or the Devils.

So, naturally, I decided the best way to work with those flaws would be to simply use a single piece of 8x11" paper with "GO CANUCKS GO" on one side and "GO DEVILS GO" on the other. Basically, my plan was that I'd cheer for whichever team was winning, because team loyalty when you're dealing with your two favourites gets pretty tricky.

Come game night, I couldn't believe this was all actually happening. Everything leading up to the game is a blur in my memory, as all I could think about was the upcoming spectacle - the thrill of being in the same building as these godlike teams as they clash for whatever it was they were trying for. Oh, the glory of it all! My trip to Disneyland when I was 6? Yeah, that had nothing on this. Just nothing at all.

And then it finally began.

Nothing in my previous experience watching hockey on TV could quite prepare me for the thrill of being in the thick of it, watching an NHL game live and personal. Everything was so immediate, so much unlike the TV broadcasts with their play-by-play and their instant replays. I cheered any time either team scored a goal (Devils, Canucks, it didn't matter), and by the time the game was over (Canucks won 3-2) I felt as if my entire year had just been made.

After the game I got a hat from the gift shop that didn't leave my head for months afterwards, a perpetual reminder of the best day I'd ever had. Even to this day I keep that hat hanging on my bedpost, one of my few untainted memories and also a pretty nifty hat for what it's worth.

As for why, even after such an amazing experience that I still remember fondly, I can't bring myself to sit through a single game on TV? Well, quite frankly that's something even I don't know. Which, in many ways, is my biggest Confession as a Non-Fan: that I don't really know why I'm not a fan.