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The Bruins Game

  • Oct 9, 2014
  • 2 min read

Current Location: 42°21′56.51″N 71°3′42.18″W Boston Garden, Boston, USA

The night was bound to be epic and eventful. It was the Boston Bruins home opening game versus the Philadelphia Flyers. We had tickets on row thirteen and no net covering our view. We had stocked up on beers, well, in our bellies, and I was as excited as a little child the night before Christmas. However, did you know that you can’t go into an NHL arena with a backpack or a computer? We tried to enter the arena well in time – I wanted to check out the pro shop, but we were harshly stopped. “You can’t go in with a back pack, go and talk to that guy” a guard told us. The person that he pointed at blurted out “Ouugh, yeah, you can’t bring that backpack in” as we came walking towards him. This caused some trouble. The reason I had my backpack with me in the first place was because I had spent the day strolling around in Boston with my laptop envisioning that I would get some work done. I didn’t, naturally. I figured that if we weren’t allowed to enter the arena with a back pack I could simply fold it up and carry my laptop through. This didn’t work either. “Oh! Is that a laptop? Sorry miss, but you have to go and see that man over there” a guard said and pointed at another man dressed in black. “No laptops miss” he said as I approached. At this point I was getting annoyed and stressed. The game was about to start. “Look” I said firmly, “I have flown all the way from freakin’ Sweden to watch this game, I didn’t know about the no laptop rule, I threw away my laptop, you cannot be serious?”. “Sorry miss, it’s the opening game, it’s important and…” The explanation that followed was some mumbo jumbo that I just wasn’t in the mood of listening to. I think he said something about online streaming. Like a phone wouldn’t do that better? Luckily for me my friend had just made friends with some ski shop owners down the road earlier that day and we called the shop up to see if we could dump my stuff there. We could. Half running, half limping we set off in a speed that my leg allowed (I had a couple of days previously fallen down a hole into the watershed system in Bali and gotten stitches). But the game was worth the entire struggle and we only missed 20 seconds. The Bruins won and I sat with my jaws permanently open and a stupid grin stuck to my face the entire game. NHL-players are good. I must admit.

 
 
 

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