i’m confused . . . i thought this was a hockey game

This past Thursday, I attended a Winterhawks playoff game with a friend of mine—only my second experience of the live hockey variety. And while I’m not a face-painting, player-names-knowing, up-out-of-my-seat kind of Winterhawks fan, I thoroughly enjoyed the game, as I tend to be a mostly equal opportunity sports enthusiast.* Throughout the years, I have participated in or been a spectator of countless athletic events, and have appreciated the substantial contribution made by the truly loyal, conspicuously clad, always outspoken fan to the overall sports experience. But at the hockey game this week, my friend and I were introduced to a new brand of athletic supporter (I couldn’t resist), a fan whose behavior in the stands had us baffled. Baffled and entirely amused.

We watched as the man in the row behind us spent all three periods and both intermissions perusing first a newspaper and then a copy of The New Yorker magazine. I’ve never seen anyone so engaged in his reading of The Oregonian, so intent on devouring every word on every page before moving on to the next. This man’s commitment to complete newspaper consumption extended even to the comics section, which he read just as thoroughly as the rest, paying Dilbert and Doonesbury the high level of respect they so clearly deserve and demand. As a loyal follower of several daily comic strips (Get Fuzzy, Dilbert, Pearls Before Swine), I understand the inclination toward this sort of indulgence, but never as an accompaniment to an athletic event. And I would certainly never use a hockey game as an excuse to start work on the comic-complementing crossword—which is exactly what this gentleman (in an act of defiant disregard for the game) proceeded to do next.

Down by three to their Vancouver rivals, the Winterhawks finally scored a (too little too late) goal in the last five minutes of the third period. I was shocked to hear the not-so-super fan behind us respond to said goal by clapping—the first and only time I saw him acknowledge the action on the ice below (see: the reason the rest of us came). He then packed up his paper and left, seemingly satisfied with his experience, while my friend and I laughed to ourselves, confounded but entertained by his antics. And now I’m thinking that perhaps the Trailblazers could steal this man’s angle for advertising, enticing fans to attend games in spite of their often unimpressive play with a “The Rose Garden is Your Coffeeshop” tagline. Just a thought.


*I say “mostly” here because I still have not been wooed by the wonders of the following sports (among others), particularly their appeal to potential spectators: golf, car racing, figure skating, and pooh-sticking.