Dear Isles Fan,
You fooled me at first. When you asked whether you were in the right row, I helpfully directed you to your seat since I've had season tickets in the section for years.
When you jumped up to cheer after Nielsen beat Mase just 55 seconds into the game, I cringed.
Then. THEN. You turned around and pointed at me. You yelled YEAH BABY! in my face.
Are you kidding me?
Look, I get it. I'm sure you get pushed around a lot in real life. You were pretty short. You didn't even have the guts to wear any Isles gear to the game.
Don't do that again, I said.
Ok, baby, you said.
I hate you, I thought.
(I might have whispered it.)
Your presence made me cheer louder while the Flyers peppered Halak. PEB's shorty was even more sweet because you had to see it in person.
You knew your team was getting outplayed. So explain to me why, after my mom (yeah, my MOM) booed a particularly rough open ice hit on a Flyer you decided to turn around and yell at her:
THAT'S HOCKEY BABY SOMETIMES PEOPLE GET HIT!
Like, you just yelled at a stranger's mom at a hockey game. Over nothing. Feel good? Whatever you need to do to validate your existence, I guess.
At least you shut up after I shouted, Listen, DUDE, I don't need YOU to tell ME about hockey. To which the entire section cheered, YOU GO GIRL. AMEN.
(Your witty retort was to hide in your seat.)
We were all sick of you.
I'm sorry you got to see the Isles win in OT. If you come back to Philly, please keep your mouth shut next time.
Better yet, just stay in Brooklyn.
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