On Friday, I went with Lamb on a field trip to kid's germ-fest sponsored by the University of Michigan and staffed by university students. Well, it was called something else, but with schools all over the city attending, that's what it was. Lamb did have a ball, I'll say:
Lamb is in there. This was just one of many rooms filled with students. It had a science theme for the most part with students demonstrating different science principles. As one college student explained a ball toss game's theme of the Earth's core to Lamb, I refrained from telling the lass that she was speaking to a two-time science fair trophy winner. So there!
So I could have gotten the virus somewhere in that crowd.
But on Saturday, I also took Mister to game two of the Stanley Cup quarter-finals against Phoenix. Actually, I bought tickets to home game 3. By mistake, mind you. I would swear that I clicked on game 2, but I assume it was my human error. After desperately trying to get to an operator on the phone after I'd already bought the tickets and been told by the first operator I got to that I should first check online to see if game 2 was available (she doubted it, implying I was hosed), I found home game 2 tickets in the lower bowl (but abandoned them as too expensive) and then found comparable tickets in the upper bowl for game 2. With the clocks ticking down for taking purchase actions, I waited on hold until I could stall the computer no longer and had to let the tickets go for another purchaser.
Luckily, with the option of trying for the same tickets again, I re-staked my claim to the tickets with a new countdown. I doubted I could cancel a purchase with Ticketmaster and debated buying new ones anyway and hoping for a 4-game sweep by the Red Wings to cancel the game 5 tickets, or just eating the cost of game 5 tickets if I couldn't sell them. But when I finally got a person, he was actually pretty understanding and said he could cancel the purchase. I thanked him and asked him to wait on the phone while I hit the purchase button online just in case I needed further assistance. So I got new tickets and cancelled the old ones. Whew! The next day I received an email informing me that game 2 was Saturday (I already knew that but the online system had still just said game 2 with the day and time to be determined). I received no message for game 5, so I think I'm clear.
I called back to see if I could buy parking ahead of time, mindful of our last experience at the Joe, but was told that the option was not there. So I made sure we left early and I reminded myself of the right exit so I wouldn't get lost and approach the arena from the other direction and get stuck in traffic.
One thing that was new was that I had the option of printing tickets. I still had to pay for the privilege of printing my tickets on my own printer rather than other delivery options. I admit I had a vague uneasiness about handing the ticket taker something I printed out and expecting to be admitted to Joe Louis Arena. When watching game 1 on TV, I was comforted to see crowd shots of people with printouts, too.
But it worked. The opening ceremony for game 2 wasn't nearly as extensive as last year when we went to game 1, but there was the dropping of a giant octopus:
You're welcome, Corrigan Oil, whoever you are. This one is on me. The marketing cracks me up. The ice shoveling crew was even sponsored by some company that had their name on a small sign taped to the gray garbage can rolled on the ice where shovelers dumped scraped ice. I do hope they didn't pay much for that honor.
After being disappointed that the staff didn't pass out towels like last year, we were pleased to see them on the seats. And as luck would have it, we might have had the only empty seat in the arena next to Mister. So after ten minutes to give the seat owner a chance, I told Mister to grab the towel. So he got two.
It seemed like we were on our way to a satisfying romp with perhaps a Coyote goalie change to mark the stomping. We saw all the first period action with a good view of the Phoenix net. But instead of killing all of their hope early on in the series, it was a tense, nail biter one-goal win. So it was the best of worlds for us, really. And excellent hockey, too. The victory put to rest the ugly rumor that my son and I are a jinx on the Red Wings. We're 2-3-1 over the last three years now when at a game.
We did get stuck in traffic this year, but that involved sitting in one place for a good 25 minutes inside the parking garage trying to get out.
I will say that my son isn't materialistic. I asked him if he wanted a souvenir shirt, but he said that he had enough Red Wing Shirts. I admire that he didn't ask for one just because it was on somebody else's dime. But hey, he already has game gear with a jersey that I got for him a couple years ago (not on sale, I should add--but I felt committed after I had to return a boy's jersey on deep discount that was too small for Mister and I had to go full price for one that fit--ouch. My own jersey awaited a going-out-of-business steal in Toronto on vacation a couple years ago) and a Stanley Cup 2008 hat that my sister got him from where she works:
Mister is fairly reserved. But he was happy as a clam to see the Red Wings win a playoff game.
Obviously, I could have gotten a virus here, too.
But oh well. It is well worth the price if that is what it takes to continue to have opportunities to spend time with my children. That time eventually ends--as it should--when they strike out on their own. That time will happen long before I'm ready for it. So really, I was asking for this virus.
