As a sports fan, it is always fun to reminisce about games I have attended in person. While living in California in the early 70s, my dad took my brother and me to see the Los Angeles Rams and the Los Angeles Lakers. It was such a big occasion that I still have game programs from each of those contests.
It’s also fun to remember the famous people I’ve met at games that I would have never in a million years thought I’d literally bump into.
The first time I attended an NHL game was back in 1999. I was working at Michigan Tech and planning on attending a videoconference in Pasadena, California. While making hotel reservations, I also researched the schedule for the Los Angeles Kings to see if they would be playing at home.
Courtesy: Michigan Tech
At Michigan Tech, I worked quite a bit with the Huskies hockey program. Their coach, Tim Watters, was a one-time NHL defenseman with the Los Angeles Kings, and the Kings were my favorite NHL team.
“Hey, Coach Watters, this is Kraig Ehm. I’m planning on being in the Los Angeles area in October and was wondering if you could please help me get a ticket to the Bruins game?” I knew it was a reach, but Coach Watters was a great guy, and I was hoping he still had contacts with the team.
“Sure, Kraig. I’d be happy to,” came the response from Coach Watters.
To say I was giddy would be an understatement of gigantic proportions.
I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Finally, when I thought all hockey hope was lost, my office phone rang. It was Coach Watters.
“Kraig, I’ve got some news for you,” explained Coach Watters. “I couldn’t get you a ticket. But I was able to get you a press pass to the Bruins game. Will that work?”
“Yes, that will work!” I kind of yelled into the phone. “Thanks!”
Time flew by as the date of the conference rapidly approached. Before I knew it, I was flying the friendly skies to California.
I picked up an extremely small rental car at the LA airport, tried merging into freeway traffic, and came to the sudden realization that my little Chevy possessed zero pickup speed. Actually, a rather not-so-kind young lady cruising by in a rather large SUV pointed it out to me with the use of the middle finger on her right hand.
“Hi, nice to see you, too.”
The conference was great, but on that last day, I was looking forward to heading over to the Fabulous Forum, home of the LA Kings.
I had a huge grin on my face as I drove into the parking lot of the Fabulous Forum. The last time I was here was with my dad and brother, oh so many years ago.
I grabbed my Nikon EM and headed for the press entrance. Opening the door, I walked in, looked left and right, and wondered where I was supposed to go.
“Can I help you, sir?” asked the lady at the table.
“Hi, I’m Kraig Ehm from Michigan Tech, and I’m here to cover the game.” My nerves were definitely apparent.
“You’ve never covered a game here before?” asked the lady who knew the answer before her lips moved.
“No, ma’am.”
“Well, the press room is down the hall; you’ll see the sign,” said the lady sporting a huge smile.
“Thank you,” was all I could utter.
I found the sign and entered the room. As I looked around, everyone there looked up and at me. “Newbie,” was written all over my face.
“Can I help you?” asked the second person in the Fabulous Forum in the space of five minutes.
“Hi, I’m Kraig Ehm with Michigan Tech. I haven’t covered a game here before, so I’m not sure exactly where I should go.”
Courtesy: itsrobinlori.com
“Great to meet you. I’m Andy Bernstein, and I’d be happy to show you around.”
Andrew D. Bernstein? THE Andrew D. Bernstein? Andrew D. Bernstein was “the official photographer” of the LA Lakers and LA Kings. I had viewed his awesome photo work from afar.
“Hi, Andy, nice to meet you, too. I’ve seen some of your work—not bad.” I chuckled as I said that to let him know that I knew who he was and was impressed.
“Let’s go out to the rink, and I’ll show you how the media covers the game,” added Andy.
Andy showed me around and gave me an important tip. There were holes cut in the glass for photogs to shoot through. The Kings’ end was already reserved, but the visiting Bruins’ end would have openings. I could find a spot I liked, drop a business card on the dasher board under the hole in the glass, and that would reserve my spot.
Once the tour was over, Andy and I headed back into the press room where I was introduced to other media members and then pointed in the direction of the buffet.
Awesome. So far, so good.
Game time.
I walked out to the rink with the other media folks and took my spot directly behind the hole in the glass and my business card.
Rob Blake
Pre-game warm-ups started, and I began snapping photos.
“Click. Click. Click.”
“Oh, look. There’s Rob Blake,” I thought.
“Click.”
I was having fun at my first NHL game, but there was something even more special in my near future.
My trigger finger was tired, so I stepped back from the glass in order to take a break.
“Tap. Tap.”
“Excuse, me” said a soft voice over my right shoulder.
Courtesy: Getty
I turned around and stared. Standing three feet away from me was Mary Hart, anchor of the television show “Entertainment Tonight.” In my effort to take a break, I had inadvertently blocked the path of the lady whose legs were insured by Lloyd’s of London for a cool million clams per gam.
“Oh…I-I-I-I’m sorry,” I stuttered.
“Oh, that’s okay.” And then she tapped me once again on the shoulder as she made her way to her seat.
Ray Bourque
Before I knew it—and much quicker than I could have imagined—the game was over. I looked down at my Nikon and hoped that my meager photography skills would provide visual evidence that I had not only attended my first NHL game, but had covered it as a member of the media as well. The only other option for honoring this momentous occasion would be not to wash my shoulder where Mary Hart had tapped it twice, but I didn’t think my wife would approve.
