practicing my rite of first refusal


Occasionally the gentleman asks me if I'd like to attend a hockey game with him. I tend to mull over his offer for a moment and then politely decline. We have a name for this little dance, he calls it the right of first refusal. I consider it my rite of first refusal. I'm sure that one day I'll agree to attend, since these games are proper NHL sanctioned events and watching a sporting event live is generally more exciting than watching one on tv.

Given my history of turning down invites to hockey games, you can imagine the gentleman's surprise when a few weekends back I asked if he'd like to come with me to a hockey tournament that I had to photograph for work. Putting aside my ulterior motive of trying to avoid a long and circuitous transit ride to the arena where the game was being held, I thought my offer was rather lovely... I had a hockey game to go to and wanted his company. As per our relationship ritual it was my responsibility to give the gentleman right of first refusal. However, contrary to our usual go around, he agreed to come.

I don't have much to say about the game itself. The tournament was held at Grand Trunk Arena, a space that looks relatively untouched since it was first built. I wandered a bit during the breaks between first and second period to photograph the relatively empty arena (save for the Zamboni driver).

Game play resumed and as the third period wound down I made my way to the opposite side of the arena to the players area. Perks of being the official photographer is that you get to go places where most spectators don't, like on the ice.

Despite the jerseys that coordinated with the arena, the orange team lost.