Hockey Night

For Christmas I got Matt two tickets to the Sharks vs. Coyotes hockey game. So Thursday night we trekked down to San Jose on the train to take part in this lovely sporting event.

If any of you have been to a hockey game before, you probably know that the clientele is generally blue collar, sometimes maybe a bit snaggle-toothed, often quite drunk, and throwing around the f-bomb.

Well.

Never have I seen a crowd so white collar and stuck up as the one in San Jose. Apparently the Silicon Valleyites are actually hockey fans. For example, the man next to me was dressed in khakis and a button down shirt, but nevertheless proceeded to have a running commentary throughout the entire game about how stupid the refs were and on and on. Also used the f-bomb liberally.

Then we noticed that the stuck-up button-ups were not afraid to tell people what's what. Repeatedly people who came in just seconds into the start of play were told by other spectators to wait on the stairs until play stops before people would stand up to let them sit down. Now I know it is annoying when people have to walk by you, but give me a break.

Next, apparently because they have to fit more than 17,000 people into the arena, you cannot see all of the action without leaning forward in your seat. And folks, we did not pay $10 for obstructed view tickets as we used to do at AWA. No, we paid good money for these seats. So naturally we leaned forward so we could see the puck. Matt was told in no uncertain terms by the girl behind him that she couldn't possibly see when he leaned forward. So he was forced to miss the action for the rest of the game. (Despite the fact that I was leaning forward nearly the whole time and the girl behind me never said anything.)

Then even after the Coyotes lost, as they are wont to do, a Sharks fan on the train told us that Coyotes fans belong in the back. I kind of laughed at the time, and said, come on, we lost! But then I thought to myself: Is it really okay for somebody to joke about sending someone else to the back of the bus?

Honestly, if I ever wanted to go see another hockey game, I would rather drive to Glendale from my parents' house and hang out with the roughnecks. At least they're not elitist.