Booze
Of Course you Came the for Hockey!
Corbin Cloward
It’s the Cyclones Big Beer Night, and of course you wanted to see them pound the Toledo Walleyes into the submission. They deserve it for even thinking of choosing such a wimpy mascot. It’s just that with so many other things going on, it’s almost too hard to pay attention to the fast paced action of ECHL Hockey.
Standing in front of a urinal is the worst place you want to be when the Cincinnati Cyclones score their first goal of the game. This is mainly due to the fact that you have a terrible view of the net. What you do have a great view of is a bottomless air duct staring you right in the face. Similarly, washing your hands after a stint at the aforementioned urinal is the worst place to be during the first fight of a cyclones game. You can’t yell out obscenities without being mistaken for a total psychopath. So, word to the wise: limit your Mickey’s intake before Big Beer Bight at US Bank Arena.
There is some point to this rambling entry, something of an allegory if you will. It could be argued that the hapless chap at that urinal is the typical Cincinnati sports fan. While the Cyclones, a team that won the Kelly Cup Championship in 2008 and the North division in 2009, is playing its guts out each week, the traditional Cincy sports fan is off somewhere spending his or her time filling up on info about one of the two perennially mediocre Big League teams in this city. Each year this sports fan will tout the merits of this or that trade and invariably rail said trades at the end of the disappointing season. These sports fans are pissing their lives away, staring into a hopeless air duct of off-the-field scandal and dropped passes. What they should be doing is attending the games of a winning, albeit minor league, team that’s scoring, checking and punching their hearts out right in the heart of the Queen City.
Now with that being said it must also be noted that it is totally unnecessary for one to be a fan of hockey, or even sports in general, to enjoy a Cyclones game. There are endless safeguards to prevent even the slightest boredom for those who couldn’t tell the difference between a puck and a Whopper with cheese. The most effective of these safeguards is Big Beer Night
Big Beer Nights, one of which took place this past Tuesday, is the Cyclones organizations’ way of saying, “We acknowledge that our fan base is composed of people who understand the value of a dollar and enjoy getting thoroughly loaded.” I, for one, applaud their attempts at speaking the language of the bar culture, and, from what I gathered at the game, everyone else did as well. People left the beer booths with mischievous grins and arms full of aluminum beer cans. It just didn’t seem within the rules to walk away with your choice of however many 24 oz. Labatts, Molsons, or Molson Ices you wanted for just $2 a pop. It was as if any second someone would pull out a big “JK” and everyone’s good time would be ruined. But it never came...and the masses rejoiced with shotguns aplenty.
Everything at a Cyclones game becomes bucket loads more fun after partaking in copious amounts of clearance priced Canadian brew. Of course there’s the hockey. The hits are louder, the shots look harder, and the penalties are so much naughtier. But there’s so much more than that.
Take for example the music in between plays. Usually an auditory diet of only Ozzy, AC/DC and Toby Keith is far too rich for any discerning music critic’s diet. However, after downing your second Canuck tallboy, your whole perspective changes. You actually find yourself bellowing the lyrics to Crazy Train with a fervor you only thought possible at mud bog races or motocross events. Your whole persona temporary changes, causing you to soak up the onslaught of contemporary butt rock with an unbridled fervor; you don’t just tolerate it, you crave it.
This gritty passion carries over to perhaps the most entertaining aspect of any Cyclones game: the intermission festivities. They are a spectacle completely tailored to the mindset of a mildly drunken man or woman. The basic ingredients of these 15-minute bouts of tomfoolery include loud noises, competitions involving bodily harm, cash prizes, and a cartoon tornado-man named Twister throwing t-shirts into a frenzied crowd of hockey nuts lining the arena’s lower level.
This Big Beer Night’s main event was the ever-popular, Center Ice Musical Chairs. It incorporates everything previously mentioned to compose a totally kickass time. It seems straightforward enough on paper, but to witness this wicked dance first-hand is something altogether different.
You must first understand the basic principles of why this is different from regular musical chairs. First off it’s on ice. “Ok, it’s on ice,” you say, “people are going to slip, big deal.” This by itself wouldn’t be so bad if Cincinnatians weren’t totally inept in wintry conditions. Anyone who’s driven anywhere inside the 275 loop during even the mildest snow showers knows that Cincinnatians completely freak out when things get slick. Now put those folks you see slipping on snow-dusted roads and sidewalks into an arena with thousands of people watching and PA speakers blasting their insides as they walk around a 15-foot diameter frozen circle. Now give them folding metal chairs so they can smash their ribs upon first slip. Now pit them against five of their drunken friends. It’s basically the perfect storm.
You’re guaranteed to see at least one really big spill during this terrible, yet awesome, contest. The contestants do wear hockey helmets as they rotate around that circle of mayhem, but their chin straps are always loose and the headgear looks as if it was banned in competitive hockey some time around 1984. I’m almost certain that the majority of Center Ice Musical Chairs contestants leave the arena minus one or two precious childhood memories.
Of course before and after all of this action, there was a hockey game going on. For the most part it was an exciting match, but it was just missing something. Those two things were fights and Cyclones goals. You’re bound to see on average 5 fights during any home Cyclones game, but this particular night there was only one, and I was in the john, so I can’t say if it was a blood bath or who came out on top. This is a damn shame because usually the two brawlers give each other a good whoopin’, which is followed by a whimsical song from the arena DJ like Love Stinks or Why Can’t We Be Friends. Hilarious!
However I was in viewing distance to see the Cyclones absorb five goals while only scoring two. This was mainly due to Cyclone Goalie Robert Mayer’s abysmal performance that ended in him being pulled halfway through the game. That’s something you’ll get every now and then in Minor League hockey; players are continually working their way up or down the ranks and for Mayer it just wasn’t his night. Even with the loss the Cyclones are still well over a winning record at 14-10-1, so don’t let this article dissuade real sports fans from attending future games.
All of this is of little consequence, as halfway through big Beer Night the actual game becomes something of an added bonus anyway. Of course you came here to see the game. You wanted to see the Cyclones pound the Toledo Walleyes into the submission for even thinking of choosing such a wimpy mascot. It’s just that with so many other things going on it’s almost hard to pay attention to the fast paced action of ECHL Hockey.
I mean how do they expect you keep your eye keenly glued to the ice if they’re going to be flashing the “Chug Cam” on the Jumbotron every time there’s a stop in play? It isn’t impossible to concentrate solely on the game, but it sure as hell is a challenge. What if you’re not looking when the “Chug Cam” lands upon your tipsy mug? You would miss the single greatest opportunity of your entire life. You would never again have the chance to hold your Big Beer in the sky while furiously humping the crisp arena air for thousands of stunned onlookers. Your friends would have free reign on noogies and Indian burns for months...and rightly so.
The Cyclones have all sorts of special events to attract fans from player signing nights to bikini contests, but the real winner will always be cheap beer. It’s just too tough for Cincinnatians to pass up!
There is some point to this rambling entry, something of an allegory if you will. It could be argued that the hapless chap at that urinal is the typical Cincinnati sports fan. While the Cyclones, a team that won the Kelly Cup Championship in 2008 and the North division in 2009, is playing its guts out each week, the traditional Cincy sports fan is off somewhere spending his or her time filling up on info about one of the two perennially mediocre Big League teams in this city. Each year this sports fan will tout the merits of this or that trade and invariably rail said trades at the end of the disappointing season. These sports fans are pissing their lives away, staring into a hopeless air duct of off-the-field scandal and dropped passes. What they should be doing is attending the games of a winning, albeit minor league, team that’s scoring, checking and punching their hearts out right in the heart of the Queen City.
Now with that being said it must also be noted that it is totally unnecessary for one to be a fan of hockey, or even sports in general, to enjoy a Cyclones game. There are endless safeguards to prevent even the slightest boredom for those who couldn’t tell the difference between a puck and a Whopper with cheese. The most effective of these safeguards is Big Beer Night
Big Beer Nights, one of which took place this past Tuesday, is the Cyclones organizations’ way of saying, “We acknowledge that our fan base is composed of people who understand the value of a dollar and enjoy getting thoroughly loaded.” I, for one, applaud their attempts at speaking the language of the bar culture, and, from what I gathered at the game, everyone else did as well. People left the beer booths with mischievous grins and arms full of aluminum beer cans. It just didn’t seem within the rules to walk away with your choice of however many 24 oz. Labatts, Molsons, or Molson Ices you wanted for just $2 a pop. It was as if any second someone would pull out a big “JK” and everyone’s good time would be ruined. But it never came...and the masses rejoiced with shotguns aplenty.
Everything at a Cyclones game becomes bucket loads more fun after partaking in copious amounts of clearance priced Canadian brew. Of course there’s the hockey. The hits are louder, the shots look harder, and the penalties are so much naughtier. But there’s so much more than that.
Take for example the music in between plays. Usually an auditory diet of only Ozzy, AC/DC and Toby Keith is far too rich for any discerning music critic’s diet. However, after downing your second Canuck tallboy, your whole perspective changes. You actually find yourself bellowing the lyrics to Crazy Train with a fervor you only thought possible at mud bog races or motocross events. Your whole persona temporary changes, causing you to soak up the onslaught of contemporary butt rock with an unbridled fervor; you don’t just tolerate it, you crave it.
This gritty passion carries over to perhaps the most entertaining aspect of any Cyclones game: the intermission festivities. They are a spectacle completely tailored to the mindset of a mildly drunken man or woman. The basic ingredients of these 15-minute bouts of tomfoolery include loud noises, competitions involving bodily harm, cash prizes, and a cartoon tornado-man named Twister throwing t-shirts into a frenzied crowd of hockey nuts lining the arena’s lower level.
This Big Beer Night’s main event was the ever-popular, Center Ice Musical Chairs. It incorporates everything previously mentioned to compose a totally kickass time. It seems straightforward enough on paper, but to witness this wicked dance first-hand is something altogether different.
You must first understand the basic principles of why this is different from regular musical chairs. First off it’s on ice. “Ok, it’s on ice,” you say, “people are going to slip, big deal.” This by itself wouldn’t be so bad if Cincinnatians weren’t totally inept in wintry conditions. Anyone who’s driven anywhere inside the 275 loop during even the mildest snow showers knows that Cincinnatians completely freak out when things get slick. Now put those folks you see slipping on snow-dusted roads and sidewalks into an arena with thousands of people watching and PA speakers blasting their insides as they walk around a 15-foot diameter frozen circle. Now give them folding metal chairs so they can smash their ribs upon first slip. Now pit them against five of their drunken friends. It’s basically the perfect storm.
You’re guaranteed to see at least one really big spill during this terrible, yet awesome, contest. The contestants do wear hockey helmets as they rotate around that circle of mayhem, but their chin straps are always loose and the headgear looks as if it was banned in competitive hockey some time around 1984. I’m almost certain that the majority of Center Ice Musical Chairs contestants leave the arena minus one or two precious childhood memories.
Of course before and after all of this action, there was a hockey game going on. For the most part it was an exciting match, but it was just missing something. Those two things were fights and Cyclones goals. You’re bound to see on average 5 fights during any home Cyclones game, but this particular night there was only one, and I was in the john, so I can’t say if it was a blood bath or who came out on top. This is a damn shame because usually the two brawlers give each other a good whoopin’, which is followed by a whimsical song from the arena DJ like Love Stinks or Why Can’t We Be Friends. Hilarious!
However I was in viewing distance to see the Cyclones absorb five goals while only scoring two. This was mainly due to Cyclone Goalie Robert Mayer’s abysmal performance that ended in him being pulled halfway through the game. That’s something you’ll get every now and then in Minor League hockey; players are continually working their way up or down the ranks and for Mayer it just wasn’t his night. Even with the loss the Cyclones are still well over a winning record at 14-10-1, so don’t let this article dissuade real sports fans from attending future games.
All of this is of little consequence, as halfway through big Beer Night the actual game becomes something of an added bonus anyway. Of course you came here to see the game. You wanted to see the Cyclones pound the Toledo Walleyes into the submission for even thinking of choosing such a wimpy mascot. It’s just that with so many other things going on it’s almost hard to pay attention to the fast paced action of ECHL Hockey.
I mean how do they expect you keep your eye keenly glued to the ice if they’re going to be flashing the “Chug Cam” on the Jumbotron every time there’s a stop in play? It isn’t impossible to concentrate solely on the game, but it sure as hell is a challenge. What if you’re not looking when the “Chug Cam” lands upon your tipsy mug? You would miss the single greatest opportunity of your entire life. You would never again have the chance to hold your Big Beer in the sky while furiously humping the crisp arena air for thousands of stunned onlookers. Your friends would have free reign on noogies and Indian burns for months...and rightly so.
The Cyclones have all sorts of special events to attract fans from player signing nights to bikini contests, but the real winner will always be cheap beer. It’s just too tough for Cincinnatians to pass up!
