family night
Sports Edition
Quick note to say that Blake is gonna be out on the road with Lachlan. Catch ‘em if you can.
“Wanna go to the Pats game tonight?” my husband asks. “Tickets are cheap.”
We all know that sometimes it’s our job to say yes. To unite interests where we can. But also, I love an outing! Especially when we’re out of our element. Anything that sparks newness. Anything that feels like a party. And even I can enjoy a sporting event for one night.
After I get home from my yoga class I have less than 20 minutes before we have to leave again. The boys are already dressed and ready to go. I change clothes, then scan the kitchen for remnants of supper – smelling the meat sauce and pasta my husband made while I was away. There’s a bowl of ground beef and sauce on the counter. It’s still warm. I don’t know its former owner, but know it’s fresh enough. I grab half a pita and scoop the food into my mouth. We leave and make the game in good time. It’s I Love Regina night and, perhaps as a result of that, free Pats scarves are handed out at the entrance. We get two and find our seats.
My son is too small to sit back in his chair. It keeps folding in on him, so he migrates to the edge. It reminds me of the first time I came to this arena for a show.
“I saw Bill Cosby here when I was nine,” I say to my husband. “We came with Aunty Sandra.”
“Wow. Bill Cosby…” Blake’s voice trails off in consideration.
Just then music begins to pound through the speakers. Players are skating around the rink, lights are flashing. My kid starts dancing in his seat, completely electrified. Somewhere in all this fanfare the national anthem is sung, a land acknowledgement is made and the mayor comes out and drops a ceremonial puck. From my vantage point, the puck drop is a deeply anticlimactic moment.
I look at Blake and say, “Is it always like that?”
“Only at every hockey game ever played.”
I shrug. “Doesn’t make it any less boring.”
Carpets are rolled up, players assemble on the ice and the game begins with the real puck drop and the burst of energy I was expecting the first time. Within moments two players slam into the boards below us. I laugh in genuine surprise at the violence. A second later I laugh again when a player is cross-checked and a penalty is issued.
“I would say so!” I shout.
I definitely sound like a mother.
Wanting to crash into another body — or to be the one who is crushed by another human — is crazy to me. I didn’t even like jumping in high school. My feet landing on the hard gymnasium floor was an affront to my knees (and I remain suspicious of jumping in nearly any context). The idea of intense physical contact in the name of sport strikes me as completely absurd.
Blake and I whoop and cheer at nothing in particular – we’re just making noise to spur on our son because we know he likes to be loud and tonight it’s acceptable.
“Cheer!” Blake says!
Our son bellows, “BOOOOOOO!!!”
I laugh. Blake looks at both of us with annoyance.
“You’re the one who chose me to have a kid with,” I jeer.
We watch the game. We eat mini donuts. We drink coffee, hot chocolate and beer as our preference states. My kid misses seeing every goal, and thus comes to believe that none were scored. We sing along to “Sweet Caroline” like maniacs hoping to get on the Karaoke Cam.
In the third period and as the last sip of hot chocolate is consumed from my son’s cup I look at Blake and say, “Maybe we should go. We could be home in five minutes if we leave now.”
We collect our things and with a flourish I wrap two Pats scarves around my neck as we walk up the aisle. On the way to the van my son sings a mash of the songs he heard in the arena.
If this is sports, call me a fan.
Awesome family night out. Sounded perfect. Thank you for sharing
As someone who has fairly recently turned into a sports fan, I love this 🥰