Warm gusts of wind brought the smell of freshly baked pizza and buttery popcorn through the giant metal doors. The warm-up music became increasingly louder as I approached the steps of the famous Joe Louis Arena. Scalpers hovered the sidewalk, while the Red Wings began departing from a clean black limousine. Time stood still as cameras flashed and flickered while the hockey players made their way into the locker room. Noticing that I was an arm length away from Darren McCarty made my heart race. The rush of adrenaline filled fans pushed me up the stairway, and through the entrance doors. Once inside, I became engulfed in a noisy, excited crowd. I nudged my way through the crowd, and began searching for my seat.
The aroma of beer and freshly roasted peanuts from the concession stands drifted towards me, and intensified my hunger pains. I noticed in the Dairy Queen booth a heavenly looking vanilla sundae, mounded with plump, juicy strawberries, and perfectly round indigo blueberries-it made my mouth salivate, and I knew that I had to taste one. As I edged toward my seat, I noticed Little Ceasars advertising grease puddled on top pepperoni pizza and a frothy mug; emersed with crisp cold beer…this teased my temptation. With only a few dollars left, and my arms filled with delectable treats, I finally reached gate 201.
I pushed the heavy blue drapery to my side. Standing in awe, my eyes scanned the gigantic arena. Everyone, including myself could feel the anxiety dripping from the air. Music blared, colored television screens lit up "Let's go Wings" and fans swung their red and white shimmery pom-poms. Scrunched in my arena-side seat, I gazed in amazement at the massive amounts of people, and began to enjoy my very first Red Wings hockey game.
The first Red Wing poked out of the locker room. His silver skate blade cut into the freshly surfaced ice. We stood cheering. The endless roar of the goal-hungry crowd made my ears ring. I watched as the hockey players razor sharp skates cut through the crystal ice and sprayed slivers into the chilly air. Their tall built stature, scruffy faces and heavily padded bodies amazed me. I watched in anticipation for the first goal to be scored. The Red wings soared on the ice, knocking down their opponents as if they were feathers. The puck glided easily into the net, it seemed like magic. From that moment on, I knew that game five in the Stanley Cup championship would become the best night of my life, and also lead the Red Wings to their first Stanley Cup in forty years.