Last night, I got a last-minute invitation from a great friend to see a Rangers-Devils game at Madison Square Garden…so I gave up my plan to watch Game 2 of the ALCS…and headed uptown straight from work…and got there right before the 3rd period.
Before long, I found myself thinking about what it would take to catch a puck. (I’ve never caught a puck. This was only my second NHL game.) Then I realized I wasn’t sitting on the end of my row. What if a puck flipped up over the plexi-glass? I would’ve been boxed in and screwed.
I enjoyed the game. I really did, and it surprised me because I’ve always hated hockey–not because it’s hockey but because it interferes with the baseball season. I love the middle of summer, right after the NBA Finals and before the NFL pre-season, when baseball reigns supreme. I can flip on “SportsCenter” or ESPN Radio and instantly get my fix. But anyway, last night’s hockey was surprisingly entertaining, undoubtedly, in part, because I only had to watch the final 20 minutes and got to do so from a fancy-schmancy seat in the fourth row where I could actually follow the puck…which never did make it over the glass.
I imagine it would be tough to be a puck collector. How many pucks enter the stands? I don’t know. Not many, apparently.
I’ll stick to baseballs.