Hockey

I feel good about going out to sporting events. It makes me feel like I'm actually participating in the social and cultural life that couldn't be found anywhere outside of Rochester, unlike staying at home and reading with a glass of wine. So far this year I've been to a basketball, hockey, and baseball game. Going to a football game will mean I've hit all four major sports, and James has already told me he wants to go.

We went with Pax, and it was typically difficult to get parked, get tickets, and negotiate the mass of humanity to get to our seats. James was immediately engrossed in the game. He found the puck (or, "hockey ball" as he called it) right away, and had no problem following the action of the "teams." I bought him a cracker jack at point, and then a white hot after he was brave enough to use one of the Arena's toilets. (Thank goodness for family restrooms)

It was a great night to be out for a game, aside from the fact that the Amerks lost. It was the second to last game of the season, so everything was pretty full, and everyone there was excited to see what would happen with the Sabres. Shortly after we left in the third period, we got the news we were waiting for: they lost to the Blue Jackets and clinched 30th place in the league. (Connor McDavid scored 5 goals in his game just as we were watching the scores come through.)

James stayed engaged the entire time we were there. I asked him repeatedly whether he was ready to leave yet, and each time he answered that he wanted to stay to the end of the game. Secretly, I think he wanted to stay past the end of the game to watch the zambonis come out and clear the ice one more time. As soon as we were out of the building he was asking Uncle Pax whether he remembered the zambonis, how one was blue and one was yellow. They are sort of like tractors, but they aren't tractors. His favorite was the yellow. We ought to buy one for our house.

We dropped Pax off at his place, and he brought out three hockey sticks from his garage for us to take home. Once we finally pulled into our own garage (past 10 PM), and I unbuckled James, he immediately climbed up into the front seat to grab a stick.
"Daddy, can we stay up and play some hockey tonight?"
"No, we need to go to sleep now. It's way past our bed time."
"Can we play hockey in the morning?"
"Yes, we can play hockey as soon as you get up."
"Okay, the blue stick is going to be mine. Can I keep it in bed with me?"
"No, I think we'll leave the sticks in the garage."

While we were saying prayers that night he prayed for the zambonis.

They hockey game was the first thing that he talked about when he was up the next morning. I'd guess that we've played nearly two hours of hockey throughout the course of the day today. He's declared at various times that we need some more ice in the house, that we need to go buy a puck, that he's "falling down like the teams did at the hockey game" and that we can take a break for lunch because the zambonis need to clean the ice.

I think we're raising a hockey fan now. And knowing that we're going to get either McDavid or Eichel in Buffalo? It's a pretty exciting time to be a little boy discovering hockey...