Hockey!

A loooooong, long time ago (going on 10 years, actually), T and I went on our first date. To a hockey game.

I highly recommend attending a sporting event on a first or second date, actually; you get to sit close, but not too close, and there's enough going on that you don't have to talk CONSTANTLY to fill the silence, but it's not like a movie where you can't say ANYTHING. Although, there is the problem of the Jumbotron.

When there's a lull in the action, the SUPER fun and original audio/visual folks at the arenas enjoy panning the crowds so folks can see themselves on the Jumbotron and act all embarrassed at first before jumping up and down like total lunatics and doing dance moves they would never, ever do under normal circumstances.

On the night of our first date, they kept doing this SUPER fun and original bit to the tune of the at-the-time new Faith Hill song "This Kiss." They'd show a couple onscreen, and then everyone would cheer until the couple kissed. If they didn't kiss, everyone would boo. (There's a metaphor for life in there somewhere.)

Anyway, years later we both revealed to one another than we were each separately STRICKEN WITH TERROR at the thought that we would be forced to either A) kiss on our first-ever date (ack!) or B) have to deal with being booed on our first date, AND C) probably remembering the insanely awkward experience every time we kissed thereafter.

Thankfully, the hockey gods smiled upon us, and we proceeded unscathed into our relationship. It's kind of scary to think that the last 10 years of my life could have been vastly different but for the whims of a really bored cameraman.

Last night, we got to relive the whole thing. Thankfully, we again emerged unscathed (we're down with the kissing, but not so much the kissing on a 50-foot screen). Our awesome friends/neighbors gave T tickets to see his beloved Chicago Blackhawks play the Columbus Blue Jackets for his birthday (not to mention concession stand vouchers...hot dog...drooooooollll); the photo above is of our awesome seats, right behind one of the goals.

The evening started out very well. We were in a whole section full of Blackhawks fans (in fact, there seemed to be ONLY Blackhawks fans everywhere we looked...), and the nine or so people directly in front of us were a fun bunch. They brought a bunch of huge letters spelling out "BLACKHAWKS" that they planned to flaunt every time Chicago scored:

Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot of Chicago scoring going on. But we were still entertained when the smallest person in their entire group ate the largest burger I've ever seen (it looks a lot smaller in this photo; it was hugondous) (yes, that is a word; I declare it so):

As I've mentioned in the past, I'm not much of a sports person (like, at ALL), but I do enjoy a good live event, particularly if the team I'm rooting for is winning.

Alas.

Here's a picture of the score at the end of the second period:

(Sorry about the weird lighting; my phone camera saw all the arena lights and started rocking back and forth and talking to itself.)

(Also, if you look at the Jumbotron screen, an announcer is interviewing a man dressed up as mustard. He and two other men dressed up as ketchup and relish, respectively, raced around some orange cones during one of the breaks and competed to see who could be the first to score a goal. Apparently mustard won.)

By the time we left, the score was 8-2, Blue Jackets. Amazingly, though, my sports-obsessed husband was still in good spirits, and even swung my hand around as we were walking through the rain (and, later, SNOW) to our car. I think he's growing.