1. Kiss-Cam c*****e
635 Words
1
Kiss-Cam Carnage
If a hot dog looks dodgy, don’t eat it.
Otherwise, the following could happen to you:
Your dashing boyfriend of almost one year decides it’s a brilliant idea to spend a few days in Portland to watch the Winterhawks as they battle and bulldoze their way into the Memorial Cup playoffs. It’s a big deal. There will be lots of people. Lots of loud, drunk, excited hockey fans.
While you’re in Portland, you’ll stop by Dad’s. Hey, Bob, how are you, how’s work at the hospital, oh wonderful, I see you still have that demonic goat, sure come along with us we’re going to a hockey game but first I’m really hungry because the float plane we flew down on had only a duffel of liquor and expired granola bars, sure I will have a hot dog, how old do you suppose these are?
And you will get ready, wearing a custom Winterhawks jersey that says FIELDING across the back, because you want more than anything for your dashing boyfriend to know the vast expanse of your love for him and that you’re so proud of his rough-and-tumble past in the N-H-L because it has given you access to a world you didn’t know existed. (Namely one that involves a little money and a tiny bit of fame among the hockey crowd.)
Then after braving the huge, rural yard where Mangala the Demon Goat lurks, you will drive with your dad, Nurse Bob, to the Moda Center and while you’re en route, your tummy will feel a little weird but it’s probably fatigue from working long hours at the resort and maybe a little hunger because really, you shouldn’t have helped yourself to so many of those wee little liquor bottles while aboard Miss Lily the Floatplane. She’s a lovely plane—don’t mind the duct tape.
Inside the Moda Center, you will find your seats, comp tickets, of course, for Ryan Fielding: Local Hero. The folks sitting around you are stoked to meet a real hockey star and you smile while Ryan shakes hands and signs programs, and you bob your head when people ask if you’re the girl who saved him from the cougar, even though moving your head makes the world a bit spinny and maybe it’s just best you sit still and watch the crowd and the promos on the Jumbotron.
After the second period, your team is winning—Go ’Hawks!—and that pesky Kiss Cam will shine on you, although your stomach is REALLY not feeling great at all, but instead of leaning over to kiss you, your boyfriend pulls you to your feet and then the entire arena sort of quiets down as the announcer calls attention to “former Vancouver Canucks defensemen who works hard year round with hockey charities to raise money for kids in sport, please give a rousing welcome to Misterrrr Ryaaaaan Fieldingggggg!” and then there are cheers and hollers and beer is spilled, but not much, because it is beer after all.
Followed by your tall hunk of a man getting down on one knee and offering up a little box with a sparkly thing shining out of it.
Accompanied by oohs and ahhs, and some words you think sound pretty but really all you can hear is the roar in your head because your stomach is going into full revolt, all you can do is smile, put your hand on his cheek, and then barf all over your seat. As if that weren’t enough, your knees buckle and you last remember hitting your head on something very hard. Likely concrete. Just don’t think about your cheek against the sticky dirtiness from the aforementioned spilled beer and forgotten hockey arena snacks.
You’ve waited your whole life for your Kiss Cam moment, and this is what you do with it?
Also: it was definitely the hot dog.
- Writer
