People Are Strange, When You're a Stranger

This past weekend I ventured out to the Verizon Center in Washington DC to see the Pens play the Caps. As usual the game was awesome even though the Pens lost in OT, but the real entertainment came in the form of the rare beauty of a dude sitting next to me. Because of the 30" snow storm several seats were empty leaving just three of us in our row. My Dad, me and let's call him the boy wonder. He was one of those guys who looks sort of normal, but in reality was probably 20 years old when he was in the 8th grade. He totally had that stocky retard-strong look to him, the type of kid you don't want to end up alone with in a suburban basement.

Even though we have the entire row to ourselves he remains sitting right next to me, and I notice throughout the game that he is watching me out of the corner of his eye. I try to offer some friendly banter, but I get nothing back except the old stink eye. The Pens are up 4-1 and I'm feeling pretty good, but I can tell that boy wonder is stewing.

During the second period intermission the Caps marketing team throws out these T-shirts from the rafters that are attached to parachutes. One lands on this seven year old kid's back in front of us and boy wonder gets the eye of the tiger, swoops in, grabs it and starts admiring it like Gollum looking at his preciousss. The grandma of the kid turns around says several times "Hey, that's my kids shirt." Boy wonder says nothing, gets up and heads to the bathroom. In my head I'm like holy shit this is going to be fucking great.

He comes back from the bathroom wearing the goddamn Caps t-shirt, which is two sizes two small for his frame and he's gripping the parachute much the same way Lenny from Of Mice and Men holds small animals. The third period is under way, the Caps start making their comeback and boy wonder goes into rare form. He starts throwing these fist pumps in the air like he's on the Jersey Shore beating up the beat. With every goal the Caps score he starts spazzing out more and more.

Finally, my Dad has to bolt to make it back to Delaware to catch a train to Boston, so now I'm alone in an empty row with boy wonder and we're sitting right next to each other as if we're on a fucking Make-a-Wish date. The Caps get a power play in OT and he starts pounding his chest and jumping up and down like a downs syndrome version of King Kong. Finally, the Caps score the game winner and I'm out of there faster than an unveiled woman at a Taliban gathering.

Now if you'll excuse me I need to watch some in-depth documentary to get the vision of boy wonder screaming at the scoreboard "Unleash the Fury!" out of my head.