I am not a hockey expert. I’ve attended one other Blues game in my life. But last week, I headed over to St. Louis for a night of hockey.
I don’t even own any Blues gear. I pulled on my Overnight Warming Locations sweatshirt, which happens to be blue, and hoped for the best. I cannot overstate how unprepared I was for this game.
The fun started on the way there. Immediately, we got lost. We debated which direction to take, and then found ourselves on a completely different route.
We crossed the McKinley Bridge and celebrated that we had made our way into St. Louis! And then we immediately took a wrong exit and merged onto the Stan Musial bridge, en route back to Illinois.
I wasn’t driving, but I was in charge of the directions, and the pressure was on. There was a lot of yelling and laughing and swerving between lanes, but eventually, blessedly, we found ourselves inside a parking garage.
Because of all our wrong turns, we were late. But my gang and I decided to look on the bright side: less crowds to fight through! We considered it a win.
Making it into the Enterprise Center was its own adventure, and then we navigated our way to a beer stand (first thing’s first, right?) and eventually found our seats. As it turned out, we had missed the first two goals, but no matter! We were in high spirits, convinced we were going to have a fun evening and, with any luck, the Blues were going to take home a win.
Now, I must reiterate that I know nothing about hockey. I played field hockey during gym class in high school, and I got a real kick out of that. But the actual professional, hardcore hockey? No idea. When the buzzer went off for the first period, I thought to myself, “Gee, that was a short game!” Clearly, I had no clue what I was in for.
Also, it turns out the NHL is serious. We weren’t allowed to walk to our seats during play, instead waiting until the whistle blew to pick our way through the crowd down to our row.
All I can compare it to is a Cardinals game, where you can basically do whatever you want all throughout the game. Half the fun, in fact, is hanging out in the stadium.
Not at a Blues game. It was intense. The fans were into it, and there was no lounging around the Enterprise Center and leisurely making your way back to your seats halfway through the period. This was hardcore. This was hockey.
We were impressively close to the ice, with our seats jutted up next to the Blues players’ bench, where the players would walk in and out in between the periods. My friend stuck her hand through the fence and got high-fives from the team as they walked off the ice, and it was awesome. Right in front of us, two players crashed into the wall and smushed their faces against the glass, and we screamed.
Louie the Blues mascot walked across the ice and waved. The ice girls (is that what they’re called?) scraped the ice. A Zamboni, which is the coolest part of any hockey game, chugged its way across the arena. We were thriving. We were tipsy. We were having fun.
The Blues scored a goal! The crowd erupted around us. I got a pretzel with cheese! Wins all around.
Well, not quite. The Blues ultimately lost, and then we got lost on the way home. So not a total W.
But also far from an L, because we enjoyed every bit of it. Even though I was exhausted the next morning, I can’t wait to go back. I’m a true Blues fan now, even though I only partially understand the rules of hockey, and I’m excited to spend another evening on the ice sometime, hopefully, soon.
