I attended a hockey game a few weekends ago. The San Jose Sharks played the Toronto Maple Leafs to a 2-2 tie. It was a thrill for me because it was the first time in my life I've seen the Leafs play in person...something I had always wanted to do.

After that game, there was an exhibition indoor lacrosse game between the San Jose Stealth (a "new-to-San Jose" team) and the Anaheim Bullfrogs (I think that's what they were called).

I have to say, I really enjoyed watching the NLL (National Lacrosse League) game. Indoor lacrosse is fast-paced and exciting with just enough of the rough-and-tumble to keep fans jacked up (yes, there were fisticuffs...just like in hockey). And, frankly, the guys playing were just yummy, and that always scores points in my books! I'd go to more of their games, if it wasn't such a pain in the ass to drive to San Jose (I-880 is the Ultimate Moron Parade...but that's for another blog entry).

I found myself feeling a bit melancholy as the game got underway. I watched the crew lay down the turf over the ice and saw the game night operations staff scurrying around making sure all the entertainment (not just players, but the music, the anthem singer, the between-period activities, and such) was in place and ready to roll on schedule. Well...the turf proved to be a bit problematic, but I'm sure they'll have it sorted out after a couple more exhibition games.

As I watched the crews working, I remembered the first exhibition games and first regular season home game we had when I worked for the San Francisco Spiders (of the now-defunct International Hockey League--I actually predicted the league's demise...despite the fact it had been around and healthy for over 50 years). I remembered the scurrying, the running around, making sure everything and everyone was in place. And I remembered seeing all of us office staff either in our Spiders polo shirts or wearing red and black (the team colours).

I remember how exciting it was. It was new. It was all OURS. We did this. The first home game in front of a big crowd (unfortunately, the last big crowd we'd ever see at the Cow Palace, a.k.a. Chateau du boef) was just unbelievable! I know I felt such a huge rush...I can't imagine the rush the players must have felt. But at least THEY could burn off that nervous energy playing the game. I literally had to run laps on the concourse to bring myself back to a normal, functioning level (by the time the players were out for warm-ups, I couldn't even speak full sentences, I was so jacked up). The first time the crowd let out a cheer for the Spiders, I had tears in my eyes.

I saw the same energy and pride (and relief!) on the faces of the staff of the Stealth. And I really missed that feeling. I missed the stress, the nervous energy. I missed the feeling of seeing something kinda big--that I had a hand in building--come to life. I remember an acquaintance of mine at the time commented that I was absolutely glowing for the six months or so up until that first game.

Hopefully, I'll have another job (soon, please) where I can feel all those feelings again. But I am grateful that I had the chance to even experience that in the first place.