Читать книгу One Game at a Time. Why Sports Matter онлайн

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RUNNING IT RIGHT UP THE GUT

That said, even for me, sometimes it seems totally fucking absurd to be making this argument. Sitting here watching a tepid mid-season Canucks game surrounded by a-holes in Affliction gear shouting grotesquely sexist/anti-queer shit at the ice while getting hammered on $8.50 plastic cups of Coors Light is hardly the place to feel comfortable about the transformative potential of sports.

Between periods I stroll around the concourse, dodging the Red Bull kiosks, the Pepsi girls, and the Stella stalls. I’m looking to milk a little extra value for the $127.50 mid-bowl tickets I’ve lucked into when a pal left town unexpectedly. It’s a roiling river of people, and 87% of them are geared right up in team apparel.

Daunted, I duck into one of the metastasized merch stores inside the arena and scope out the $299 authentic jerseys, $45 pennants, $50 branded garden gnomes (!), $115 baseball hat display cases (!!), $79 ticket frames and the hundreds of other Canucks-themed ephemera.ssss1 I buy a pair of shot glasses for my mom’s birthday. I’m not sure she’s ever gunned a shot in her life, but it seems the right thing to do. I see a vintage Brendan Morrison signed and framed player card propped up by the counter so I snag that too. Mom’s worth that for sure. She’ll love it. The clerk wraps it for me expertly in Canucks-colored paper and slides it all into a lovely, tastefully-branded little Canucks-themed bag. Very nice.