Monday, February 18, 2008

Pens Vs Sens



No I didn't get to watch the Ottawa Senators play the Pittsburgh Penguins. Tonight I took in the Binghamton (best when said Bing. Ham. Ton.) Senators clash with the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Penguins of the AHL. First things first, we have to stop referring to the two towns just south of the New York/PA boarder as either Wilkes-Barre/Scranton or Scranton Wilkes-Barre. They should have to pick on name and use it for all their minor league teams, or else go by Northern Pennsylvania or something. Whew, I feel better now that I've gotten that off my chest.

A few things struck me about my time at Broome County Veterans Memorial Arena. First, was the putrid excuse for a hotdog that I paid $3 for and promptly spit out into my hand without shame in front of my whole row. Second, was the fact that from 1977 to 1980 the team was known as The Broome Dusters, which cracked me up. Then there was the douche nozzle that was sitting a few rows behind me in section 3. (I was in the front row, as you'll see when I upload the pictures tomorrow)

This guy really thought he was part of the show, and sadly so did a number of the Sen's faithful. He would shout some barely coherent sentiment at a player of a ref that sounded something like: "Hey Fleury, what kinda humma humna goal tending blahdee blah muffa dee puck frizzie butterfly position? To which the whole section would chime in: Yeah! As if this guy had made some great point. This went on through the whole game, and I couldn't believe that people were into it, but in the end, I have to admit, I wanted to stand up and yell: hey ref, you call that a mumba numba chaka lata hooking funzta lipta slashing dang ole boo you need glasses... and see if they would do it for me too.

Mostly I watched as Marc-Andre Fleury looked like an NHLer among AHLers for the first two periods, before holding on to win 3-2. There were two early fights, one of which took place right in front of me, and that added to my over all enjoyment of the game. In the end it didn't matter that for some reason the clubs mascot was a lion named Maximus. Or that only one of their six "ice girls" was pretty enough to make a JV cheerleading squad, because there was blood. And that's what hockey is all about.

What is better than a Hockey fight?

Another Hockey fight in the same game.

But, what's better than sitting in the front row?

The Zamboni

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