A couple years ago, we residents of Allen started hearing about the two big malls planned for construction just up the road from our house. With the malls would come a shiny new event center, and with the event center a Central Hockey League (CHL) hockey franchise of our very own. I was pretty sure I'd never heard of the CHL, but a friend pointed out that our as-yet-unnamed hockey team would be in the same league as the Texas Brahmas, with whom I was familiar. Better still, the Brahmas are based in Richland Hills, Texas (near Fort Worth), so we'd have an instant cross-town rivalry.
Over time, the malls and the event center came together. Earlier this year, stores began opening and we learned that our CHL team would be called the Allen Americans. Compared to animal avatars like the Mississippi River Kings' attitude-filled turtle, Odessa's Jackalopes, and the Bossier-Shreveport Mudbugs, "Americans" seemed a bit lacking in pizazz – and, while on the topic, I sort of wish the Americans' red uniforms didn't remind me so much of the hated Detroit Redwings – but we had a shiny new hockey team, and it was good. No, really. In their first season, which started in October, the Americans are currently only two points behind the Southern Conference leading Odessa Jackalopes.
All of that to say that Turtle, her parents, and I finally attended our first Allen Americans game last night, against the Texas Brahmas.
Initial impressions were generally positive. The event center, which is conveniently located about five minutes from our house, is very nice: brightly lit and very clean – as one would expect from a brand-new facility. It's not a huge venue, so even the nosebleed seats provide a reasonably close-up view of the action. The seats are all nicely padded and, for those with a lot more money than I'll ever have to throw around, skyboxes ring the arena. Jumbotron, check. Flashing, animated advertisements, check. Ice Angels (cheerleader/dancers) in white lycra pants so tight that a single splash of water in the wrong place would turn into an anatomy lesson… check!
More important, the level of play is surprisingly high. The players attack the puck and one another with the same amount of energy and relish as in any NHL game, and about the only real differences I could see were that the passing was not as crisp, nor the goaltending as impenetrable. These guys are a blast to watch, without having to take a second mortgage on your home to buy a ticket.
The only real down side is a significant one for Turtle and me – and a significant one that, if not addressed, will prevent us from supporting our team as we otherwise would have done. The Allen Event Center's ADA compliance feels like a nod and a wink. As far as the seating, at least. When I set about trying to acquire tickets for wheelchair accessible seating, it took me several phone calls and an unanswered voicemail message before I finally gave up on reaching anyone with a clue and went to the box office. There, after about 5 minutes of back and forth and “let me go ask,” I learned that the only accessible seating is on the glass. Not a bad thing in and of itself, as these are prime seats, near one or the other of the goals. The problem is that these are the most expensive seats, at $30 per ticket (as compared to the terrace seats, which cost less than half that). Then, when we showed up for the game, we were repeatedly (but politely) moved every time someone with season seats showed up and wanted our spots. I drew the line when it was suggested that Turtle should have to sit behind the 6'5" fat cat with season tickets.
After the dust settled, everyone was able to see and we had an awesome time, but the lack of accommodation for those who can't climb stairs left a bad taste in my mouth. In fairness, the event center has only been open for a month, and I'm sure the folks who run things are still trying to get their collective act together. I can only hope that the city of Allen, which owns the event center, will pay attention to the feedback it will certainly get from disabled citizens and get it together so we can all support the team.
All in all, we all had a great time at our first Americans game and hope to have the opportunity to cheer on our new team!
The senses consume. The mind digests. The blog expels.
Certain individuals keep telling me that I should be a writer (Hi Mom). This is probably as close as I'll ever come to making that happen.
Showing posts with label thanksgiving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thanksgiving. Show all posts
29 November, 2009
09 July, 2008
They like me! They really like me!
Okay, maybe that's overstating things just a bit, but I received an e-mail this morning from my manager that brightened my day. He says that I, along with the rest of my immediate project team, will not be among those to be laid off. I don't have any other details, since I've been off this week, trying to burn some floating holidays that I'll lose if I don't use them in a hurry. But knowing that I'm not about to become an unemployment statistic does a lot to settle my nerves.
Your prayers are working. Thank you.
Your prayers are working. Thank you.
16 November, 2007
Stop draggin' my heart around
Almost exactly a year ago, I was taking advantage of my use-'em-or-lose-'em vacation days to get some doctor appointments out of the way. My internist and his PA heard a heart murmer that they hadn't heard the previous year, which prompted an echocardiogram and two attempted appointments for cardio stress tests. The scheduling nurse couldn't pull her head out of her... Cosmopolitan long enough to get it right, and I ran out of vacation days. I figured I'd get it rescheduled after the first of the year, but then things got busy and I never bothered. If hitting 190 beats per minute on my weekend bike rides hadn't given me a massive coronary, how bad could it be?
I went for my annual physical today, and the murmer's still there. The doctor is perplexed, because the echocardiogram didn't show anything to suggest where the gooshing noise is coming from. And he wants to know where the gooshing noise is coming from.
So now, I get to add a cardiologist to my growing collection of specialists and hope that he'll find nothing worth cracking a sternum over. I prefer to keep my medical issues in the realm of abrasions, contusions, and dislocations. You know: stuff you get from bike crashes.
The up side is that my labs came back good, all my boy parts passed muster, my neck and back haven't flared up since earlier this summer, and I have a new pair of bifocals that I can actually see through without giving myself a headache. It's a pretty good place to be, heading into Thanksgiving week.
I went for my annual physical today, and the murmer's still there. The doctor is perplexed, because the echocardiogram didn't show anything to suggest where the gooshing noise is coming from. And he wants to know where the gooshing noise is coming from.
So now, I get to add a cardiologist to my growing collection of specialists and hope that he'll find nothing worth cracking a sternum over. I prefer to keep my medical issues in the realm of abrasions, contusions, and dislocations. You know: stuff you get from bike crashes.
The up side is that my labs came back good, all my boy parts passed muster, my neck and back haven't flared up since earlier this summer, and I have a new pair of bifocals that I can actually see through without giving myself a headache. It's a pretty good place to be, heading into Thanksgiving week.
24 November, 2006
Windows to the past
I occasionally hear someone remark about a tree, the front steps of the county courthouse, or a piece of antique furniture, "Oh, if it could only talk." I feel the past too, but it's usually modern ruins that trigger those feelings in me. Maybe it's a derelict filling station or a weathered farm house with a tree growing through its roof.
The other day, I was digging through a CD full of images I'd scanned from photographs taken back in the early '80s, when I walked a lot and nearly always had my trusty Olympus OM-1N slung around my neck. This is one of them, perspective-corrected, color-tweaked, and with a bit of noise added. The "Main Street" sign is also my addition and sort of sums up my motivation for taking the shot of this abandoned warehouse that actually was on Main Street.

We may not have spend the holiday with the ones that birthed us, but we were with family.
The other day, I was digging through a CD full of images I'd scanned from photographs taken back in the early '80s, when I walked a lot and nearly always had my trusty Olympus OM-1N slung around my neck. This is one of them, perspective-corrected, color-tweaked, and with a bit of noise added. The "Main Street" sign is also my addition and sort of sums up my motivation for taking the shot of this abandoned warehouse that actually was on Main Street.

Meanwhile...
...back in the present, Turtle and I had a very enjoyable Thanksgiving with our adoptive grandparents, their family, and a few more strays like Turtle and me. The wine flowed, the dining room table groaned under the weight of a spread of such quantity and variety that it was overhwhelming.We may not have spend the holiday with the ones that birthed us, but we were with family.
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