Some Days Are Just Special
The day has come. I now hold in my hand the envelope that will change my life forever. It contains my filled out order form to become a Washington Capitals season ticket holder. Dreams do come true.
As long as I can remember I have looked up to the great people who can take 8(pro football) to 81 (major league baseball) nights each season and dedicate them to the team, and as I walk by the mailbox this morning, I will join those ranks. My wife and I will be that wierd couple (thanks again for letting me do this dear) that you see when you go to one or two games a year who wears matching jerseys and has a deep, meaningful conversation about whether or not Halpern will have that breakout season, or if Alex can really match that fabulous rookie year, or how much longer will Ollie really play? (these conversations will probably contain more cursing than I am representing here). I might let my hair grow a little too long, but just in the back. We will receive two of every free prize given out at Verizon Center this year, and we will be disgusted with you and every other phonie who only comes to a few games each year, not truly appreciating the great atheletes that we have right in our midst, because we will be the greatest people on earth, hockey fans.
And also I get a free autographed replica stick for signing up early.
Let's Go Caps.