I’m a rabid hockey fan. I played for eight years as a kid, and have survived two lockouts and terrible seasons for my favorite team, The Montreal Canadiens. My family made jokes that I might have to change my allegiances upon arrival at Drexel, to which I responded with some rather nasty remarks I don’t believe I’m allowed to quote myself on (let the record show that they were not only tasteful, but also not directed at any team or fan in particular, instead questioning my parent’s implication that I would even consider leaving my team behind). For a long time, when people would ask what team I was a fan of, and then ask where I’m from (Connecticut) they’d respond with, “Oh! Makes sense.”
Let the record show, this does not in fact, make any sense at all.
What matters though, isn’t these transgressions on my fandom, no no no. What matters today is my fear of an upcoming day, April 3rd.
April 3rd is my 21st birthday, and the first day I will get to see my beloved team live versus the Philadelphia Flyers, a team I might add I have no personal beef against, and quite enjoy watching play. A statement I will uphold on every other day of the year, with the exception of April 3rd.
I hear horror stories from friends who are fans of “other” teams who have pretty ridiculous things happen to them before and after games. I want to go to the game, and show off my “Bleu Blanc, Rouge” but would rather not end up pummeled into oblivion after the game.