How I wish I could be in Syracuse tonight, at the hockey game. I bet youd never dream that Id be a hockey fan. Actually, I havent been to an ice hockey game since Steve was a little boy, but I used to love to go to the Mohawk games when I was in junior high in Cincinnati. I was fascinated by the skating skills of the players. Having just learned to skate myself, I thought it was awesome that they could skate so fast and nimbly while hitting a little puck all over the ice. My dad was a huge hockey fan. He got so wrapped up in the game that sometimes the referee threatened to throw him into the penalty box, just for being an obnoxious fan. He always wore a hat, and hed be constantly shoving it forward and backward on his head, which was his version of nail-biting I guess. Meanwhile, My friend and I would be running up and down the stands and doing football cheers at the very top of the rink, thinking we were ever so cool and cute. Aside from having minor crushes on the players, we were fans mostly of the refreshments. We planned our whole evening around our junk food. First period was popcorn. Second period was a hot dog. Third period would no doubt be ice cream.
Tonight, however, Id be there for the national anthem, because my very own granddaughter, Brianna, was singing it with the Home School Choir. What a thrill it must have been for her. What a thrill it would have been for me. Youd be able to recognize me, because Id be the grandmother standing and listening with tears streaming down my face. I get emotional anyway when I hear the National Anthem sung in a venue like that, but put my Brianna up there behind the mike, and that would outshine all the popcorn, hot dogs, and ice cream put together. And maybe my dad was smiling down on her, this time with his hat in his hand