March at the Joe

Pre-Game: I have a hard time looking forward to working downtown anymore, but like any other game, I grit my teeth, smile, and get through the night. I was standing in line to get a hot dog and I saw Holmstrom walk in. He stopped and pulled his medal out of his pocket and showed a group of people. Then he was walking by me and I said "hey, Homes." He stopped by us too and showed us the medal. Very nice. Very pretty. Very awesome. The medals looked incredibley cheezy on tv, but in real life, they are awesome. The second gold medal I've gotten to hold and first foreign medal. Both are in hockey though, guess that isn't surprising. That totally made my night. Meanwhile, Schneids, perhaps Lila (spelling and exact identification are not known), and Drapes walk in. Sadly, I did not see Gretz, Barry, Cuj, Boyd, or the rest of the Coyotes.

Game time: I don't know if there is any more boring a time than between 6:00 and 7:30. I observe things that I don't agree with and I stand there boiling about it even though I have no control. There was a woman who had a very infant baby with her. When I say infant, I mean newborn infant, less than three months old. Oh my flipping goodness, bitch. One, it's too cold (you could see his hands turning purple), two - he had nothing but a one-sie on, three - no visible sign of jacket, four - it is too loud in a sports arena for a tiny baby, five - it is too germy in a sports arena for a tiny baby, six - why would you subject a baby to that kind of environment?, seven - if you can't find a babysitter, stay home!! it's just a flippin hockey game, eight - need I really continue??? ARGH!

One man was talking during the national anthem. I gave him a death glare and he seemed to get the message and shut up while the rest of the song was being sung. I continued to hate my standing room for the remainder of the night because of it.

I spent my break talking to one of my usher friends who got hired in the same time as I. I vocalized thoughts of retirement. She supports that decision and is starting to lean towards that herself. Things are different down there. I'm glad I'm not the only person who notices and/or cares. This was time well spent, I'm glad I came across her instead of sending a bunch of one-way text messages with no particular meaning. Just because I was miserable at that moment in time doesn't mean I had to share my grief with others.

Most people left early. These are typical Wings' fans that really only stand behind them if they win. If they are losing, they are out of there by 9:30. Since Phoenix's fifth goal came shortly after this time, the last five minutes of the game consisted of me telling people good night and bidding my ticket holders a fond farewell. One even stopped (somehow I missed his entrance) and asked how I was doing. This made me feel somewhat reassured that he recognized me being his usher for who knows how many years now.

The Wings lost. Boyd Devereaux scored a goal and had a few assists. Cuj was number one star of the game. There is such a thing as sweet justice in this world.

Post-Game: I emptied my section quickly. I got wink and nod and 'hi amy' from Al (my favorite part of the night, if I don't see him before game time). I didn't kick anyone out of the arena. We got released quickly because everyone had already gone home. The only down-side to this was the traffic. Late enough for the roof to be cleared, early enough for people still clearing out of garages and trying to figure out how to drive downtown. This drives me mad, especially when I am driving home to a day off. A day off which will be spent doing laundry, reading Potter, bothering (for lack of a better term) people while they should be working, and in my sweats taking it easy.

Golden linings to mark my dreams by. Ciao