If Hockey dies, Hockey Dies

My latest escapade is detailed below. All accounts are 100% true. I’m not here to embellish, merely to make myself laugh.

I have, for the last two three years, begged and pleaded with someone to buy me a micro-recorder, mini-disc recorder, or even a talk-boy, so that I can share the life I lead and all of its nonsense with those around me.

My latest victims? The NHL All-Star Game.

Exploits:

First Exploit—An Observation. I hate hockey. It’s stupid. It’s just not my bit. So, as opposed to watching ANY of the 21 combined goals scored in the game, I defaulted to acting how my wife typically acts at sporting events: I watched the people. And believe me… there is people-watching to be had at a hockey game at the AAC. I love the sports-jersey, but I have never liked the hockey jersey. Too much. Too long-sleeved. In most sporting events, there is a clear division of socio-economic status between the jersey wearer and the non-jersey wearer. The more high-falooting you are, the less need you have for a jersey. Not only did I see MANY a jersey at this game, there was also MANY a blazer. Chris-Chris and Cash McMogulson were all over that joint. And it only got worse when I went to an after-party at the Ghost Bar.

Second Exploit-Bumming a Cigar CAN be done. My brother-in-law and I made a stop at the after-party hosted by Versus Network at the Ghost Bar. Seriously not my scene. The place is covered in chrome/silver/fluorescent green. Now, granted, I’m not someone who particularly enjoys the nightlife at a place like this. My version of nightlife is a second glass of port and two episodes of The Sopranos after my wife goes to sleep. So, myself, a wolf, donned sheep’s clothing to appear sheik enough to participate in this… aura. I was on the observation deck, when I noticed a VERY well-to-do gent (like Ben Kingsley in a Hugo Boss suit) smoking a cigar. Shamelessly, I approached him. The conversation went something like this:

Excuse me, do you mind me asking where you picked up the cigar?

Cuba.

I’m sorry?

CUBA (louder, to overcome the sound of Michael Jackson’s GREAT “I Wanna Rock With You.”).

No, did you grab it at the bar or was there a store downstairs?

I got it in Cuba.

I didn’t see that when I walked in—did I miss it?

No, I have a connection in Cuba.

Oh… well, enjoy.

You want one?

No, I couldn’t.

Please (reaches into his coat pocket).

No, well, okay. Wow, thank you… have a great night.

Now, with this exchange, you might expect that I opened the cigar, lit ‘er up, and enjoyed the cubano.

Nope. I put it in my pocket and took it home. Was I concerned that the fake Ben Kingsley would see me and wonder? No, what do I care. I’ve got my cigar—and I’m out.

Third Exploit-Confuse someone for Dolph Lundgren… on purpose. Brian Engblom is an analyst for the Versus Network. He’s been on ABC & ESPN. He’s a former NHL Defensiveman for many teams. And now, he joins the ranks of the select few celebrities who’s wheels I have shot off. While I was at the after party, I noticed one of the guys from the pre-game broadcast that Versus was doing. I didn’t have a clue who he was—but I knew who he wasn’t. He wasn’t Dolph Lundgren. Oh, but, me, well… I wanted to make him think that I thought he was Dolph Lundgren. So I handed my brother-in-law my camera and gave him instructions.

Take a picture for me.

Then I approached Engblom. He was talking to an older suit… so I waited patiently (awkwardly, but patiently). When I felt it appropriate, I interrupted.

Excuse me… could I trouble you for a picture.

Oh, sure. Absolutely.

(My brother-in-law takes the photo you see above)

Great. Thank you so much. I loved you in Masters of the Universe. You’re a great He-Man.

(INCREDIBLE awkwardness. Silence. Staring.)

I continue…

I love you.

(EVEN MORE awkwardness)

Then I turn and walk out. My time here is done. Veni Vidi Vici.