Yankees (and Canadians) are crazy, y’all

You know you are from the South when you go to your first hockey game at age 31.  You know you are from the South when you stand there in shock, with your jaw hanging down to your boobs, as you watch refs stand right beside two athletes fighting, without intervening.   Does this really happen in an organized team sport???  I mean, I grew up watching football, baseball, and basketball, and I’ve seen the players get thrown out for throwing punches.  And I knew that hockey was a particularly brutal sport, but I had no idea fighting was actually sanctioned (p.s. anyone else think it’s crazy that sanctioned can mean approved or penalized?  Oh, the joys of the English language.) in the official rule book.  In hockey, you get put in “time out” for a few minutes, but actually, fighting is encouraged.

Here are pictures from the Davisons’ first hockey game.  Of course, we took two Michiganders (including one former hockey player) with us to show us the ropes.

The view from our great seats…thanks, John.

The mascot of the Greenville Drive (a little blurry):

Below is the unofficial mascot of the Greenville Drive….this guy banged on the plexi-glass anytime a player (or ref) skated near him.  Most ignored him, but if they did look his way, he simply waved.  Pretty funny.

On a sidenote: I just finished reading a book that my friend wrote, and, in the story, the main character meets Jesus.  For some reason, this is who I kept picturing as Jesus in my head.  Strange.

Here is a picture of some of the delicious food we enjoyed.  Hot dogs, pretzels, and beer were two bucks each.  Naturally such a deal could not be missed.

On our wristbands that indicated we were indeed over 21 years of age (10 years over, sadly!) was a number for an attorney who handles drinking and driving cases.  That’s what you call targeted advertising.  Don’t worry, I drove and did not partake in any alcohol, just two dawgs and half a pretzel.  Judge me if you wish, but I simply was trying to get the true American experience, for research purposes.

And last but not least, here’s a picture of  one of the three (THREE!) fights we witnessed in the last couple of minutes of the game.  Of course it’s blurry because I was freaking out–the game was almost over and I was terrified that we were going to leave our first hockey game without witnessing this fighting phenomenon.  I don’t usually condone violence in sports, but if that’s a major part of hockey, then bygod I paid good money to experience it.  Two of the fights had no passion whatsoever behind the punches, it was purely for the crowd’s entertainment.  And a good time was had by all.

So, to sum things up, never will I ever let my kids play hockey (to be fair, I’m not sure I’ll let them play football either).  The end.

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