I was vastly disappointed by the result of last night's hockey match between the Canadiens of Montreal and the Kings of Los Angeles. First of all, I expected something much more regal and understated, and more in line with the Kings' team name. I have dined with several kings, you see, and I found them to be much calmer in demeanour and smaller in stature than the boorish athletes I saw on the ice wearing synthetic fabrics.
I did not pay very much to sit a few rows behind the glass at the Bell Centre, which is a terrible name for a public place since it bears the name of but a lowly inventor, rather than a great horseman or perhaps a duke. I thought that I would partake in the watching of this sport, despite its popularity with the working classes. I can understand why citizens of lower classes enjoy such events, as the tickets cost a pittance! Beverages were sold at a very low cost as well, though that is to be expected as they were served in plastic cups. I did not care for the easy availability of alcoholic beverages, nor for the noise level that was unnaturally high for a crowd of so many thousands. I was very fortunate to have been warned of this by my footman, and prepared myself by asking my manservant to fetch my mink earplugs before I left my manse.
I noticed that every time the Kings of Los Angeles inserted the rubber disk into the cordoned-off area behind the keeper, the people inhabiting the seats in my row grew discouraged. It was not until the Canadiens' leader - I believe they call him a coach, though I saw no horses - chose to relieve the keeper of his duties, that I understood. This young man had not done his job properly, and as such was soon met with unemployment. The same very nearly happened when I watched one of my good friends fire his stable boy after a particularly loud sneeze. I was shocked at such a public display. Why, my crystal monocle nearly fell out of my eye! Such a fortunate stroke of luck that it did not, as it would likely have landed on the floor, or worse, on someone's denim pantaloons. Can you imagine? What a horrible thought.
It was also quite disappointing that the moving players on the Canadiens' squad were unable to allow their disks to reach the cordoned-off area behind the keeper. I expected them to be able to do this, as the Kings of Los Angeles were capable of this feat more than once. Ultimately, I began to lose patience and thought my time would be better spent elsewhere, as this hockey squad was unable to acknowledge the honour of my presence. They probably assumed that their amphitheatre was filled with people whose income is smaller than theirs, and not noblemen such as I. In order to avoid further disrespect on the part of this hockey squad, I thought it best to return to my manse and enjoy the rest of the evening sipping my finest brandy in the presence of my string quartet. I shan't be returning to the Bell Centre, as the quality of the entertainment was even lesser than the puny cost of admission.
I have learned my lesson.
One side honours the winners of NHL trophies.
The part everyone knew about: listing the names of every Canadiens player from the team's first century.
