|Daddy and me at a Predators play-off game.|
Four years ago, my daddy went in with some coworkers and bought 2 season tickets to the Nashville Predators. I've always enjoyed hockey--because of The Mighty Ducks movies and a girlhood crush on Joshua Jackson--but going to the games was not much more to me than a chance to bond with Daddy. He loves almost all organized sports, but I'm more "discriminating." Like my mother, typically I'd rather stay home and cook something fancy. Or sleep.
But I love hockey now. I can throw around terms such as icing (not on cakes), charging (not on a credit card), boarding (not on an airplane), and hip check (not my move in an Ann Taylor 3-way mirror) just as well as all those big guys in jerseys smushed into the tiny chairs all around me. I have not, however, adopted their foul language and generally sour attitudes toward the refs. I'm a very ladylike hockey fan. I just sit there quietly, biting my nails until the Preds score. :-)
|Predators v. Red Wings|
We tested my powers once last year. Daddy and David were at the game, and I was home doing laundry. (I bet Mama was cooking something fancy or sleeping...) The game came on a different channel than usual, so I was watching a movie and ironing, thinking it had been blacked out. David called me just before the 3rd period to tell me that they were losing. Badly. I hunted for the channel, eventually found it, and watched from home. Apparently my superpowers are affected by distance. I was able to will them to a tie that night, but not a win.
This begs the question, Why does Daddy bother taking anyone other than me with him?