Army West Point Athletics
Tuesday, March 16 - Musical Chairs
March 16, 2010 | General
Good afternoon BKB followers, Dallas Miller with you today.
To answer your very timely question (you did ask, right?), I returned from a great weekend at home late on Sunday evening. While Shak and the hockey team were out at Air Force for the opening round of the AHA playoffs, I spent my Friday night on the ice at the Blue Cross Arena in Rochester, N.Y., the eventual site of the AHA finals.
By 'spending my night on the ice,' I mean that I was on the ice during the second intermission.
And by that I mean that I played musical chairs in front of 6,047 spectators.
Because my good friend broke a gentleman's agreement not to pull chairs out from under one another, I ended up in second place, with just a t-shirt and bruised elbow to show for it. Some friend, huh?
For those interested enough to read on, a full recap follows:
Some college buddies and I decided to go to the game, and after several minutes of convincing, we decided to throw our names into the hat for the chance to "compete" on the ice. (Finger quotes are more than appropriate in this case)
After we were announced as the winners, we gathered at the zamboni entrance with a few minutes remaining in the second period. The Amerks staff outfitted us with hockey helmets and made us sign some sort of waiver (that none of us read) before handing over the inflatable chairs.
The most athletic member of the group, a college quarterback, was the first to be eliminated after he failed to find a seat when the music stopped - leaving him to stand and watch the rest of the action from the safety of the blue line.
With only two chairs and three people remaining, the three of us that remained got very quiet, focused on the fierce battle for a soft pink seat at center ice.
When the music stopped a second time, I was lucky enough to have lined up a chair for myself as the other two combatants scrambled for the other. To my terror, their scuffle bumped my intended seat unintentionally and sent me sprawling on the ice. I recovered quickly, however, and regained my seat to the thunderous applause of the raucous crowd. At least that's how I choose to remember it.
The two weakest links now eliminated (my apologies to the parties in question), I squared off one final time with pride and the adoration of thousands on the line. The soundtrack to the championship, Miley Cyrus' Party in the USA, blared from the public address system and stopped suddenly, signaling my all-too-timely demise.
As I jostled to gain the necessary angle, I looked over my left shoulder to see the soft glow from the pink chair beckoning my hindquarters.
Passing the point of no return in my attempt to sit, I realized suddenly that the inflatable chair was gone.
I fell hard to the ice, recovering quickly once more, this time to find that I had been betrayed. I looked on as my friend extended his arms and legs in celebration, possible only because he was fully-supported by his stolen furniture.
To recall the depths of my despair would be to pour salt on an open wound.
My friend had yanked the chair, earning himself a $25 gift card and shaming me in the process. The crowd cheered on the momentous upset. Several grown men wept.
