First Game, New Experiences, Old Passion

Wish I could relive that moment again

The electrical buzz filling the arena. The tens of thousands of fans cheering at the top of their lungs. The crisp sound of the puck hitting the face of the sticks. And of course, the Canadian winter lurking outside.

Now those are all elements that make up a great hockey game.

It began about about a month ago. I came back from school, and once I took off all my winter stuff weighing me down, my mom greeted me by telling me to call my dad immediately. Turns out that his work had offered him two Winnipeg Jets tickets, and that I could pick the date we would be attending. Naturally, I went for Sunday, February 17th. The Jets would be playing the Boston Bruins, my favorite team. And so it was a done deal. I would be going with my dad, and my little brother would be going the next time my dad got tickets.

During the coming weeks, I had enough work and other mishmash to keep me busy enough, and I didn't think of the upcoming game much. But once the day did arrive, a wave of excitement hit me, and of course,  a headache and queasy stomach did too. However, once we arrived to the MTS Center and found our seats, my mind was too absorbed on the game to think of anything minor like a headache. Our seats were some of the highest up, but it was still a very decent view. Plus, with season tickets sold out for next two-three years, landing those two spots was quite amazing.

But back to the game. It was dynamic, intense, and at times exhausting. Frankly, I almost stopped caring about the score, for I was too immersed in the game or trying to tract down my favorite player. (David Krejci for those who are curious, or who wish for one more fact to write down on that biography of mine they're working on).

And let me tell you, watching an NHL game on TV just doesn't give you a whole portrayal, a whole image of what a real hockey game is. All around me, people were heckling out words of support or criticism to whichever teams, and chants like "Go Jets Go!" and "Ref You Suck!" resonated in my ear with a deafening tone.
It was thrilling.

The Bruins ended up winning 3-2, and I tried to suppress a smile that was longing to appear.

I didn't have a jersey, didn't have any gear to show whichever team I supported. Yet I felt right at home surrounded by all those Jets and Bruins fans. Yes, a little uneasy at times, but I still felt like I belonged in that arena, I belonged in that game. And that's the beauty of hockey, or whichever sport you enjoy. It was the passion that bound us all together, and the passion that will bring us together every time that puck drops on center ice.