The Hockey Train

9:53 or 10:53? It was 9:42 and I was at least a 15 minute walk from Penn Station. I had already missed the 8:53 and I didn't want to get home at midnight, so I jumped in a cab to catch the earlier train back to the beach. As I walked over to track 16 all I could see was a sea of blue shirts, long hair and missing teeth. The fucking hockey train. Please God, don't let the Rangers make the playoffs.

Editor's Note: The author actually loves the game of hockey, has played it all of his life, was a die-hard Rangers fan up until the lockout and still idolizes Mark Messier. However, any type of contact with the typical hockey fan makes him ashamed to be white. Due to a lack of hair and a love for his teeth he has replaced hockey with soccer and is currently working on improving his Spanish.