Hockey in the sun

I have been lucky enough to attend a handful of NHL games at three different rinks. Thanks to generous family members and vacations, I've witnessed three playoff games as the Coyotes of Arizona hosted the Detroit Red Wings, one regular season matchup of the Minnesota Wild at San Jose, and one game in the heart of hockey country as the Canadiens beat my beloved Pittsburgh Penguins. I discovered the best overall experience is found in the cities that don't bleed hockey. The tickets are cheaper, the outdoor climate is more pleasant, and the fans are more creative than rude.

The Bell Centre

Home of the first member of the Original Six, the Bell Centre opens its doors to hockey-crazed fans from late September for preseason action until Montreal's playoff run ends, usually early May. (Sorry, fans.) The  building shakes with the cheers and jeers of Canadiens fans. The nose bleed seats, from which you'll probably need binoculars to see, run from $27-$52. It's not a bad deal if you're into the atmosphere more than the game, or don't mind watching specks fight over an even smaller speck. For those fans who wish to see the action more clearly, it'll cost anywhere from $196 to $275. These prices, found on the Bell Centre website, reflect the real cost. Using a middle man like Stub Hub leads to tickets with inflated prices. Would you like to sit on the glass behind the net? You better be willing to drop $425 because prime seating in Montreal is hella expensive. 

Aside from the typically outrageous ticket prices, Canadiens games present an electrifying, yet often hostile, environment in which to play. Fans whoop and shout loud enough to be heard across the border. Ok, so that might be an exaggeration, but it isn't much of a stretch as Canadiens fans are known to be obnoxious. Living and breathing Montreal hockey can make people crazy; it's not unusual for fans to boo their own team for playing anything less than perfect. On the other hand, if the Habs are on top of their game, fans easily make the atmosphere hostile for the opposing team. Chants of "Fleur-y!" rained down that one time I stepped foot in Habs territory. You can even hear the taunts during live broadcasts. Attending a Montreal game is exhilarating, with the crazed fans screaming for sixty minutes straight and extraordinary pregame light show, but the outrageous ticket prices and hostility outweigh the pros. I'd rather spend my money on a plane ticket to the west coast.

Gila River Arena (formerly Jobing.com Arena)

One might wonder how hockey in the desert has lasted nearly twenty years. Wonder no
more! (Lame, sorry). If you live in a hot, dry climate, ice is somewhat of a novelty, and I believe that's reason number one why the Coyotes stuck around this long. Local Phoenicians must've been in awe. "Ooh, what is this sheet of white with colored lines? Oh! It's cold! And what is that black rubber disc? Fascinating!" Of course this is a massive dramatization. Residents of Glendale obviously don't live under rocks, and they probably know of hockey. Bringing hockey to Arizona has been vital to growing the sport in the States and desert. It starts with young kids watching and idolizing the professionals playing in their backyard, then those kids learn how to play. The whole process picks up speed when the original young players inspire the next group, and so on. Keeping the Coyotes in the desert led to this snowball effect. USA Hockey data lists Arizona as first in hockey growth among states with an NHL team and third among all states after last season. The desert loves hockey. 

Desert hockey fans aren't crazy from cold winters; most think 60 is freezing. The focus lies on the game and having a good time. Other than every seat being the best seat in the rink, the howl of the goal horn is the greatest aspect of Coyotes games. 

It kind of makes you want to chime in, doesn't it? Plus it gets the fans all hype for the game. 'Yotes fans howl with pride for their dudes and with anticipation for the action to come. Not to mention it's difficult to create a hostile environment for visiting players when the fans are just happy to escape the heat for a few hours. Imagine strolling around in the sun for a few hours, grabbing some food from Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville, maybe do a little shopping, and then amble on over to the arena to cool off by watching grown men on 0.115 inch thick blades bat at a rubber biscuit for two hours. Did I mention it's on the rocks? Enjoy!

SAP Center at San Jose

Welcome to the jung – wait, that's not it. Oh, that's right. This is the SHARK TANK! Also, WELCOME! (Caps lock on for emphasis because it's fun and I support the men in teal.) Not only is this a sweet silhouette photo op, the players literally enter the ice from the mouth of a foggy, red-eyed shark. It does not get any cooler than that. And you can try to find something to beat it, but one of two things will happen: you'll either die from fatal levels of awesome, or, the more likely outcome, you won't find jack. Unless you were looking for Jack. You might find him. He sounds cool, but not as cool as skating out of a demonic shark head. When they dim those lights, you best get to your feet; the Sharks are about to surface and feast on the unfortunate opponent.

Chomp chomp go the Sharks. And so do the fans. No, seriously. 

When San Jose is awarded a power play, nearly every single fan in the arena extends both arms forward, one claw hand on top of the other, palms facing each other, and moves the top hand to create a shark mouth ready to nosh on the competition. The Shark Chomp, accompanied with Jaws music, kicks so much ass. The music itself is cool, but throw in an arena full of chomping fans and it's unreal. Quite possibly the best display of fandom is the chomp. (I'm pretty sure this footage is super old, but the modern chomp looks exactly like this, just in high-definition.) Fan bases have their own unique in-game rituals. Sharks fans just happen to practice the premier, supreme, unsurpassed, unparalleled, ultimate, incomparable tradition. Shoutout to the thesaurus for all those synonyms of "best". One awkward adjective wasn't enough to describe the Shark Chomp. 

Black and Gold 'till I'm dead and cold

Before I dive into my obsession over the new Penguins third jerseys, let me provide a small disclaimer. I support several NHL teams, including the Chicago Blackhawks, San Jose Sharks and New York Islanders. It's impossible for me to commit to one team like the "die hard" fans, who are obnoxious and often disrespectful to the sport and the players. And now I'm going off on a brief rant, so bear with me. All sports fans have the right to hate teams and players, but I'm bothered when they show blatant disrespect. If you hate a player, like Sidney Crosby, you should recognize his talent as well. Too often Crosby is referred to as a "pussy"(pardon my French) or other derogatory names. I would love to see fans jump into Crosby's skates and experience the game from his perspective. Fans, be obnoxious and crazy, just please show some respect for the elite hockey athletes who worked hard to get where they are today.

Now let's get back to our regularly scheduled blog post.

I'm currently pinching every penny I have so I can buy a gold Evgeni Malkin jersey.

Pittsburgh unveiled new third jerseys in September, which are a throwback their threads of the mid-1980's and early 1990's. The Penguins are my day one team, the first team I liked when I started to follow professional hockey, and these jerseys have rekindled my love. The yellow gold looks sharper than the bland, brown gold on the typical home and away jerseys.

The unveiling video is epic, though it could be better. I understand Crosby is the face of the Pittsburgh Penguins, but he lacks the intimidation factor. Quite frankly I'm more inclined to pinch his cheeks. Crosby will always be a cute little hockey player from Halifax, Nova Scotia, with naught a menacing bone in his body.

The Pittsburgh gold jerseys make their debut October 22 as the Penguins host their rivals from Philadelphia. The throwback sweaters will make an appearance 11 other times this season, but I say increase that number! Show off those gold threads. Make the hockey world remember a time when Pittsburgh dominated the ice, winning the 1991 and 1992 Stanley Cup. Make the sports world remember the "City of Champions" version of Pittsburgh, minus the Penguins, when the Steelers and Pirates won their respective championships. Pittsburgh gold pleases the eye more so than brown gold. Yuck.

One option the Penguins should consider is doing away with the brown gold jerseys and making gold the norm. Gold catches the eye; it's dazzling. Plus the blue jerseys make for great alternates when being so stylish grows old.

These beauties are a classic. Hockey jerseys remain the coolest of all sports uniforms, especially when there are laces at the neckline. It elicits memories of old-time hockey and playing on frozen ponds or lakes. Laces on jerseys create nostalgia. I think laces should be on every alternate jersey because it's a reminder of the sport's humble beginnings.

If the Penguins continue down the throwback path, it's not long before we'll return to the dark blue of the 1970's Penguins, before the struggling team switched to gold. And I cannot wait for that day.

How dope would Evgeni Malkin look in this bad boy? The answer is pretty dope. The logo hasn't changed much, but the colors sure have. Current away and home jerseys are nearly identical, save for coloring. I vote Pittsburgh throw it back even further to the dark blue in the very near future, like within the next five to seven years. Give me enough time to save money for yet another jersey for my collection, please. Several current NHL teams sport blue on their jerseys but nothing quite like what I'm now calling Pittsburgh blue.

Of course if the Pittsburgh blue is cursed, i.e. we revert to our losing ways of the '70s, maybe we should stick to variations of gold. I mean, we did win three Stanley Cups decked out in black and gold. It's probably best to save the blue for special occasions as alternate jerseys. Plus, blue doesn't fit well into the mantra "black and gold 'till I'm dead and cold."