Behold the Curse of the President's Trophy

We have home ice advantage for the entire playoff run. Exciting. Now if I only knew when exactly those playoffs started so I could stop worrying about it and get on with my life, that would be great. When will I find out? After the regular season wraps up on Tuesday. Why does this suck? 1) It does not provide me with enough time to decide whether or not I need to change my court date; 2) It does not provide me with enough time to find someone to take my shift at the store (if in fact they do start on Thursday). I am about ten minutes away from calling the NHL offices and demanding they tell me the schedule. I don't care if we don't know the eighth seed yet, or the television schedule, they have the days planned out already, they just aren't telling anyone. Whatever. I'll stop worrying about this.

The game was okay. I was bored. I suppose after Friday's nightmare that is a good thing. Tom's dad was there. He was so happy to see when he walked in that he gave me a hug. He asked if I wanted a coffee. When I said that I couldn't eat or drink in the rink or concourse, he said, eh, I know Mike, he'd let it slide. HAHA. That was fun. Then later in the game he gave me a couple bucks to get something during my break. That was nice. When he is at the game it just relaxes me. I saw one other season holder, who, in the course of three seasons has only ever said hi to me. I have ceased to let this bother me anymore than it absolutely has too.

I was leaning up against the wall and staring at the rafters for the majority of the game. I had to stop very few people. Didn't really talk to anyone. I was wondering how on Earth I am going to survive up to another two months of this routine. It's not fun anymore. I can't really stand it. I almost hate the person that ushering has turned me into, at least when I'm ushering. Blah. Then the fun started:

Respect: learn it, love it, demonstrate it.
I stand at the top of a staircase during the national anthem. I do not only do this because it allows me to see the ice surface but also to prevent any rude individuals to find their seats. Yesterday, I stopped a group of people. Best part about it: they had to wait for "Oh, Canada" AND "The Star Spangled Banner." I will teach them respect before it is done.

You have to wait for a stop in play.
The play was about to commence again and these three guys walked in. I just put my arm out and said "you have to wait for a stop." The guy I actually stopped was fine. His friend said to his buddy, "yeah, man, what the fuck is wrong with you?" I turned around and just glared at him. Instead of shutting him up, he kept talking, saying something about how I thought he was annoying. I turned around and said, "You're the only one talking here." I said it with the most serious of faces. This still didn't make him shut up, but offended him, and then he was complaining and asking me about my sense of humor. By that time, a whistle. I just said "go." They went. Silent Bob lead the trio away. Blabbermouth followed STILL talking, and when the guy walked by me that I actually stopped, I just smiled at him. After all, I was totally joking around. He knew that. He looked back at me and I was still laughing. But then I stopped in case the jerk looked back to get one more comment in. HA. At least my lack of humor reached those to which it was intended.

The President's what?
There was a man who was awaiting a whistle and tried to carry on a conversation with me. He said, "if the Wings win tonight they clinch the President's Cup." I said "well Edmonton has eight minutes to score three goals and call it a night." Then he said, "well if the Wings win the President's Cup will be presented at the end of the game." I said, "no, it's presented at the end of the season." He said, "no, the Stanley Cup is presented at the end of the season." I said, "No. First of all, the Stanley Cup is presented at the end of playoffs to the team who wins it. Second of all, it is called the President's Trophy and it is presented at the end of the season. Third of all, that was a whistle, you can get away from me now." Good-bye drunk man, may you never impart hockey's most vital knowledge or history on anyone else while you are intoxicated.

Apologies
I apologize, Lord Stanley, that so many ignorant people who claim to be hockey fans used your name in vain tonight. With that said, here is this story.

So, we have the most Stanley Cups, right? [WRONG!]
It was time to clear the arena. I walked down to the glass, said hi to Al. I stay there until the zambonis are finished re-icing the surface and then see to it to kick anyone in my sections out. Yesterday, I did not have to do that last chore, there were a couple newbies and they did it instead. Good. Let them work. I've done my time. Anyway. Here come a couple of jackasses still drinking beer asking if they could look. Sure. I was busy looking at the banners to see both the curses and the blessings of the President's Trophy. I think history might be in our favor this year; the Wings have won the Cup in past Olympic years. They kept asking questions, so I was brought back to the ice level. They asked whether or not it was real glass. They asked how many people this seats. They asked how old the Joe was. They asked if it was the oldest arena in use. I could answer all these questions. I said it was not real glass, but sometimes even this breaks and cracks; it holds slightly over 20,000; its 27 years old; and that Pittsburgh might be the only rink that is older than ours that is still in use. They asked how old it was. I said it was probably built in 67 when the franchise started playing there (this may or may not be the whole truth, but they believed it, so it was okay). One of them was wearing a sweatshirt and said, "we are 26." I said yes, yes we are. His sidekick said, "we're an original six, right." I said, "I certainly hope so." Then the Stanley Cup questions. Do we have the most; who has the most; how many do they have; well how many do they have; we have ten, do we have the most? "No; Montreal and Toronto has more than us. Montreal has 23 or 26 Cups -reaction: woah, that's a lot of Stanley Cups-; I don't know how many T.O. has; our ten make us the team in the United States with the most Cups, but not the NHL. Oh look, the zambonis are done, and now you're done too. Buh-bye." They left the rink without a fight and then I was done. Until Monday anyway.