Oprah vs. Blackhawks

I've been a great lover of hockey since my son first started playing the sport in grade school. Weeknights were filled with practices, and weekends were spent traveling to North Dakota and Canada for games and tournaments. We traveled as far north as Winnipeg and as far east as the Twin Cities to watch NHL games.

When my five co-workers and I headed to Chicago to host a national convention, hockey was the furthest thing from my mind. We would spend the next ten days in the "Windy City," with a few spare days for site-seeing. We were staying at the Marriott on Michigan Avenue also known as the Magnificent Mile (of shopping.) A mile of stores? Were they serious? I'm the one who even hates to venture to Wal-Mart.

Early one morning my co-workers and I made our way to the concierge's desk to see what type of activities we could find to entertain ourselves. Oprah tickets? Why were my friends so excited? I didn't even watch Oprah, let alone want to see her. They got tickets while I continued to wait in line. I definitely wanted something better to do...now sell me a hockey ticket and I'll be in seventh heaven.

I had watched the Chicago Blackhawks for years on television and had always wondered why the fans cheered through the National Anthem. To me, it seemed that such behavior was utterly disrespectful. I needed to see up close and personal what that was all about--sell me a ticket if you have one, please. What? They're playing the Detroit Redwings, their rivals from hell? I'll take the best seat in the house if you have any left!!

As the gentleman handed me my ticket, the only question I had for him was, "Ummm...how do I get to the game?" He laughed and pointed toward the door. "At 5:00 go out that door, take a right, and walk to the corner. The bus will pick you up." That sounded easy enough. My friends peered inquisitively at me, shook their heads, and said, You're crazy!" Perhaps....

As I stood on the corner at 4:45 waiting, I thought to myself, "I'm not crazy, or am I? A lady alone in the city headed for a hockey game at night?" The red Blackhawk jerseys began surrounding me in groves. In fact, once the bus arrived and I jumped aboard, all I saw was a sea of red. I felt a strange sense of security knowing that I wasn't alone. It seemed like only seconds before the United Center loomed ahead of me as the bus drew to a halt. I chose to be the last to depart the bus; and as I peered at the driver, he must have been reading my mind. "After the game, come out this same entrance and I'll be waiting for you but across the street. Look for bus #27. I won't leave without you." What a great guy!!

I had been in hockey venues before and knew that if I didn't pay attention to my surroundings, I could easily get lost. It wouldn't be the first time for me! I noted every vendor, restroom, and sign as I strolled the outer edge of the venue in search of Section 113. Once I found it, I grabbed a soda and snack and headed for my seat. I didn't want to miss the National Anthem; after all, that's why I was here.

"Great seat," I thought as I slipped into it and got comfy. I was just in time to watch the players do their routine stretching and warm up shots. The seats on both sides of me were currently unoccupied, but I was hoping to have friendly bodies beside me, perhaps someone that would at least occasionally chat with me. Within minutes, my "neighbors" began arriving; it only took a second to realize that I undoubtedly got more than I had bargained for as the sea of red-jerseyed gentlemen swarmed my space, a beer in one hand and a tomahawk in the other.

When the players were being introduced on the ice, I saw absolutely NO empty seats in the house; and the Redwing fans were definitely letting it be known that they were out in full force. I'm sure that for the next three hours, I'd be a Blackhawk fan, considering I might get scalped with a "nerf" tomahawk if I cheered for the opposition.

As the first note of the National Anthem rang throughout the venue, the whoops and hollers began, accompanied by clapping hands, stomping feet, as well as the faint sound of words being sung. I was speechless! It's difficult to verbally describe the aura that hugged the arena except that goosebumps covered me from head to toe. The sensation I felt was totally awesome and in no way disrespectful. Now I knew, but still didn't understand. It's a phenomena at it's greatest moment.

Once my beer-drinking, tomahawk-toting "neighbors" discovered that I had come to the game alone, they were on a mission to keep me entertained during the entire game; then again, I'm easily amused at times. "Yes, I came alone." "Yes, I love hockey!" "No thank you. I have a soda here." "Yes, I do know what offsides is." "Oh, yes, I saw that hit." "Yes, I know the Hockey Song. lol" "No, I really don't care to have a beer." "I'm originally from Montana, but am a true Caps fan now because I live outside D.C." "I'm here for work and chose the Blackhawks over Ophrah." "I thought so, too." "Whoopsie! It's okay; I've had beer spilled on me before. :)" ...and so went the evening. They were, without a doubt, more entertaining than the game itself.

Following the game, I didn't have any difficulty finding the bus once I squished my way through the massive crowd of fans to the correct entrance/exit. As I approached the bus, the driver gave me an enormous smile and asked if I enjoyed the game. "LOVED IT!!" During the return bus trip, he chose not to stop at the corner, but directly opposite the Marriott, waited until I crossed the street, and gave a huge wave out his window. What a great guy!

By the way, the Blackhawks won the game! Woo Hoo!!