or me and Beets cutting lose at the arena
Okay, so last night me and my cohort in off-color crime, Beets hit the highway donned in our baby blues to partake in an evening of live hockey. Sadly, my darlin' Geo was being held hostage at work and couldn't take advantage of the uber generous offer from his boss of primo first level tickets to watch my beloved Pens battle the Kings. Beets ended up being his proxy.
|just a couple of hockey chippies in our blues|
She'd never been to the brand, spanking new Consol Energy Arena. In fact, we've never been to a hockey event together. We managed to get there a little earlier to take advantage of the Lexus club passes which were included with the tickets.
When we entered the club, an awesome buffet spread fit for a gluttonous, fat-ass king of yore lay before us. There was grilled-to-the-rarest perfection steak, trout, quayle (not to be confused with the Dan-I-want-to-be-your-VP-but-can't-spell-potato variety), shrimp bisque, a plethora of the finest meats and cheeses, not to mention a dessert table that went on for ... well an entire table.
Now when Geo and I frequented the Lexus club at the Pirates' facility, it was all free. You heard correctly...FREE. So natch I thought the same applied here. Besides there was no one taking reservations at the entrance, the plates were there, the crowd was milling about.
We filled up our plates with a cornucopia of festive treats, then started looking for both an available table and flatware. (Good God, Man! We're not animals. We may be middle class, but we learned how to master the use of utensils. *scratches her armpits, drags her knuckles on the ground*) And that's when we came across the REAL entrance to the lounge, replete with a concierge, waiting list and menu of charges.
To her credit, the hostess only looked horrified for a minute at the site of us two rubes with buck teeth, snot-filled noses and a pile of gruel, but then she couldn't have been any sweeter as she informed us the buffet was, wait for it... are you sitting down?...
We actually contemplated dropping the plates and running as if chased by zombie wolves while she graciously looked for a table to seat us, but decided to be grown ups about it. I know, right? Imagine that. Hell we weren't paying for the tickets, we never get to go out together, parking was cheap... (insert your own personal favorite rationalization here)
So we stuffed ourselves. Literally. To the point we could barely move, because, you know, we're classy like that. Note to self: always find out the scoop on extra perks BEFORE shoving food down your gullet.
Anywho, we had such a great time. The Pens have been plagued with so many injuries of key players that they had to call up a handful of Baby Pens from Scranton.
|the new recruits from Scranton|
they don't look like much, but boy can they
cross-check your ass into the boards
It could not have been more exciting. The Pens scored first. The Kings tied it up at the end of the first, and that's how it stayed through three. Then the recently returned Jordon Staal stuffed the biscuit in the net with 18.7 seconds left in OT.
Woo fricking HOOOO!! Cue the fireworks. Oh wait...we're inside. Drop that lighter, Jethro!
Beets and I would have had a blast no matter what the outcome. Some highlights:
Not one, but TWO fights during the game.
|Engelland got the best of this punk|
|ok, we lost this take down, |
but holy crap I love me a good hockey fight!
And one in Kings colors:
I tried to get a shot of him standing next to the goalie named Quick. Would that not have been completely awesome?
At one point our Johnson was upended at their goal and literally became a Johnson in the hole. A tee... A hee. The 12 year old in me was so giddy.
I almost caught the ice chippie-tossed rolled up t-shirt Beets managed to tip. It landed in the empty seat next to me, but the male beast behind us went absolutely mental, scratching and clawing his way through the plastic seat back to get at the worthless thing as if it was wrapped around a gold bar. It's just a t-shirt, Dude.
Our spastic waves were caught on the Jumbo Baloney Tron, much to the abject horror of her teen aged daughter who was present with her male "he's just a friend" companion. Mission accomplished there. Man, you better believe we were totally hoping to be on the Kiss Cam to further her cringe-factor. That would have totally sent her around the bend. Ha Ha!
(Side note: I have no idea why a camera pointing in ones direction inspires one to act like a person inflicted with seizures. Seemingly, no one is immune.)
And then to top it all off, we got groped by Ass Burgh, I mean Ice Burgh
|"those aren't PILLOWS!!?!"|
AND assaulted the cardboard visage of he of the soft, ruby red lips, Sidney Crosby.
|Lick, Lick Slurp, Slurp|