I encountered several of the Flyers the night before their preseason game against the Leafs at the Air Canada Centre, and it was like the last six volatile months never happened. It felt like things were back to the way they were before Boston, and the trade deadline, and my insane quest for true love; almost as if it had all just been a very bad dream. Of course, time has a way of revealing its true measure, and in this case that measure was Scott Hartnell’s hair. His fro had grown to ridiculous lengths since my last Flyers game, and that made it painfully clear to me that half a year really had passed since I had turned my back on the boys in black and orange and went chasing a white rabbit to unfamiliar desert sands.
I also encountered one of the sources of my misery, and by that I mean the other end of the prophesized trade. I can’t lie. I did give him a bit of a menacing stare down. Seeing him for the first time in person made me wonder about what would have happened if things went differently on March 4th. I really believe that I was already naturally growing apart from the Flyers. Things were becoming monotonous and not in a good, comfortable way. If there is one positive thing to be said about my switch to Phoenix (until this point that is), it’s that the change awoken everything inside me. It rekindled that passion for hockey and for adventure which was sadly becoming routine.
Of course, not even preseason games will run smoothly for someone like me. You see, after I switched to Phoenix, it was like the door to Philly had locked behind me. At the end of last season, I tried multiple times to see the Flyers play, but external things kept standing in the way; a friend would pull out of wanting to go to the game, or an unexpected test would come up at school, or my aunt needed an emergency babysitter to watch her small ones. I’m not trying to read too much into anything, and I didn’t really think much about it back then, but wouldn’t you know that I’d start to feel a bit under the weather the minute the boys arrived in town. Now, a minor fever and sore throat were never enough to keep me from the rink, but a dead car will do it for sure.
This afternoon, as I was running out the door to head downtown for the game, I noticed that my car wasn’t responding to the remote entry. I didn’t think anything of it; I thought maybe I had stepped on it or something (you never know with me). So, I manually open the door, but, of course, the car is completely dead. So, I know it’s probably the battery, but how this could have happened, I had absolutely NO idea. My baby has automatic headlights, and even the interior lights turn on as soon as you pull the key out of the ignition, so there is really no need to turn anything on, let alone leave anything on. On top of it, the car is brand fucking new. I bought it a month ago. I haven’t even driven 2000 KM yet, so how could it be breaking down?
I was delayed over an hour waiting for roadside to give me the diagnosis. I was praying that something had somehow been left on, and that my ride was not a piece of crap. He’s too handsome to be crappy! Sure enough, the headlights were on. All I can deduce was that my purse or something hit the lights as I was leaving the car, because I definitely didn’t touch them. Even the roadside guy-man was making fun of me because I didn’t even know where the lights were located inside the car yet. I know what you’re thinking, but in my defense, almost immediately after I bought the car, I started production with that MTV movie! So, for the entire three weeks of production, I was solely driving a production car. I’ve really only had the last week to get better acquainted with him.
Anyway, we managed to get downtown with enough time to spare to grab some chicken wings on Front Street. The game was really exciting and physical for a preseason match up. No, Phil Kessel was not in the lineup! I was wearing my sparkly Flyers shirt for the first time since the 07-08 hockey season. Apparently, I never wore it once last year. Unfortunately, my fever was getting worse. I was stumbling around the concourse before the game started when, through my feverish haze, I began to hear a familiar song.
Aerosmith’s Living on the Edge was the theme song to that fateful final Flyers game in Boston. Everything that could have gone wrong on that trip did go wrong. I was searched at the border, my flight was cancelled, and I drove a rental car from Buffalo all the way to Boston in a blizzard. This song came on the radio three times during my hellish drive, which I found very fitting at the time since my back was sore from how tense and on edge I was. And this was two days BEFORE the trade deadline! Anyway, I hadn’t heard the song since that near death experience, and the reminder of it wasn’t welcomed.
On a more positive note, can I just say that I love preseason Leafs fans? They aren’t the same snooty crowd that frequent during the season, and they legitimately seem really grateful to just be there. Most season seat holders think preseason games are below them, so they more than willingly give away their exhibition games to their hockey starved friends. I don’t think I had ever heard the ACC as loud as it was tonight! At least not since the Leafs last made the playoffs.
However, there were some interesting characters in my section. Behind me, I seemed to have the cast of Dazed and Confused. Instead of watching the game they decided to watch the scoreboard and announce every time the clock hit 4:20. They also felt the need to brag about their ability to recite the lyrics to Fifty Mission Cap like that’s some kind of incredible feat. You’re at the Leafs rink, buddy, it’s pretty safe to say that we all know the words (hockey trivia) to that song.
In front of me there were two crazy Flyers fans that were suspiciously not wearing Flyers gear. They were those obnoxious fans that like to travel across multiple seats whenever their team scores. Anyway, when the Leafs tied up the game and forced sudden death, these two suddenly became true blue Leafers. When I saw this instant shift in alliance, I couldn’t help laughing, “Holy shit, these guys switch teams more often than I do!”
