Jell-o and McQuade picked me up this aft for Jell-o’s final pint as a single man at the Ship & Anchor on 17th. Kj’s first words after getting underway from my sister’s place in the suburbs were “I have no idea how you’re getting home.”. That’s the best part about friends – you don’t really care because being able to have a beer with them more than makes up for having to figure out the details of getting home later. The beers were cold, the local scenery outstanding (mmm… hotties in tight clothing is a sure sign of spring), and I finally got to meet Ev (I have met him before, but only for a short time at McQuade’s wedding a couple years ago) and chat with him awhile.
Kj, for the record, hailing a cab in downtown Calgary is not a trivial task. I did get home, but it was a pain. Thankfully, I had consumed beer, so it didn’t matter.
We picked Rachel up at the airport and took in some excellent Indian food for the Good Friday meal. Half the table was meat-free, with my sister and I filling the role of godless heathen. We’re okay with that.
The evening was spent at a bar of questionable lineage watching the game. I don’t recommend Players for it’s ambiance, cleanliness, or quality of food, but for watching a Calgary Flames playoff game, I can’t think of a place I’ve been with better atmosphere. The place was a sea of red brandishing flags, towels, air horns, and those bugle-thingees you find in abundance at CFL games. Whenever Calgary started up ice the place erupted in cheers, every shot taken had people on their seats screaming, and every save by the Flames – no matter the difficulty – was applauded roundly.
It was a unique experience, and I now understand why attendance at Flames games has been over 90% per year despite the fact they haven’t made the playoffs the last seven years. This place loves their hockey, so it’s not just Kj being a freak. The folks in Eastern Canada who have to be given permission/told by the scoreboard to make some noise could learn a lot from the fans here. I won’t hold my breath, though.