Sports? Fights! Insanity.

Riss and I were in Ohio for Thanksgiving and while we were there, I scored free tickets from a family member for us to attend a local, minor league hockey game. The Cleveland Monsters are the closest thing we have to a pro hockey team. "Pro sports" is an extremely lenient term Ohio uses for the teams we pour money into up there. Well, we went to “The Q" or Quicken Loans Arena. Any Ohio sports fan will know this is the home of the Cleveland Cavaliers.

All that means nothing to Carissa. She doesn't give a damn about sports. Any sport. Now, I need to point out that I've never been a hockey fan, or known too much about it. So, when I got the tickets, I got really excited to go to start watching a new sport. Plus, the Monsters are supposed to be pretty good. Finally, a sports team Cleveland can believe in! (Spoiler alert: they lost) I was ready for the experience. Carissa had doubt in her eyes, but still was more than willing because she will try almost anything once.

90% Preperation
200% Perspiration

We arrive, and we're only a few rows up from the ice. I venture off and find some nourishment, and by that, I mean I located some $3 beer and overpriced, but tasty, wings. Carissa watches the players skate around and warm up. When I get back she goes, “Why is the field so small? I thought it would be bigger”, but at the time she can’t explain WHY she had this thought. It turns out, my wife did “know” a couple things about hockey: there are fights and it's played on ice. This, to her, meant it would be played in a frozen tundra, where human beings have only ventured once or twice before. She had begun the day wearing a coat, a sweater, a thermal, two scarves, a beanie, and some mittens. It's a comfortable sixty degrees inside the arena, and as soon as I return to our seats, Carissa immediately strips half of her warming layers. Only half though, she still looks like she is bracing for a storm, and now I look equally ridiculous buried under her discarded shame.

The game that day was the Cleveland Monsters and some team from Texas. Now, the Monster's mascot, for your information, is a monster poking the top of its head out above water. Carissa quickly pointed out that it's just an eyebrow wax away from copyright infringement. In all fairness, he does bare a striking resemblance to a certain creature, from an animated movie series about training large scaly mythical beasts. Anyway, the Texan team’s colors were green and white. The same green and white adorning the hoodie worn by yours truly. Shit, well too late to do anything about that now.

Pictured: The mascot equivalent of music sampling

As the players were called on the ice, the "humongatron", seriously, that's what they call it, the humongatron, told the crowd to "MAKE SOME NOISE". We disobeyed. Not just Carissa, my parents, and myself. No one among the crowd made any noise. The apathy was palpable.  The game soon begins and we sit there, somewhat confused about the exact rules. I know some basics about hockey and Carissa knows absolutely nothing, she is just hoping for a fight.

Pictured: Defiant Silence

Early in the 2nd period, she gets her wish. Two cats get into it. I glance at Carissa. She's grinning broadly, and slightly shadow boxing. I did the same thing when I was little and watched boxing with my father, so I recognized her unbridled joy. I also have to laugh about her open silliness, but that's part of why I love her. The two guys go at it for a minute or two, before making their way to the penalty box, or "hockey jail", as it was dubbed after that. You can guess who said that. She even pointed out it's convenient that they fought so close to it, so they wouldn't have to skate too far to it.

Pictured: The saddest cheer leader gig ever. 

Occasionally through all this, the humongatron continued its efforts to rouse us. It gradually became more effective. Near the third period, Carissa had a sudden epiphany. Out of nowhere, she shouts, “MIGHTY DUCKS! That’s why I thought that the rink was small! I guess because they’ll all children it just looked bigger.” Even the toughest of men couldn’t help but giggle heartily at this. More importantly (ridiculously), Carissa had tasted blood. She demanded another fight. She said random things to the players. "He kicked your dog", "He made out with your sister", "He said that the Starz original series Spartacus was better than Game of Thones!". She was really hoping for another one, even cheering when the original fighter hit the ice. This unfortunately never happened again, much to her chagrin.

My favorite part, through the thrill of the game, through the heat of the battle, was the humongatron. This thing was as silly as it could have possibly been. I watched seagulls sing and dance. I watched a Corgi twerk in multiple colors. It just continued to drag my mind through the lower rungs of insanity. It was just logically broken. It was LSD soaked nightmare fuel. I loved it.

At the end of the day, hockey is an awesome sport. I could never play it, but after this game, I actually would really enjoy watching it again in the future. Carissa still doesn't know a thing about the game, but she likes fights. I can drag her to many more games, a husband’s dream.