"Did you come home with your underwear this time?"

 

That's how Bnot to wear pantyhose.  I was pretty damn lucky I opted for a tank top under a light blue shirt that morning.  But the blue shirt ended up with coffee stains on it from the car ride and found its way wrapped around my neck.  The "preppy" look is really not my thing but it was better than the "What?  Can't find your mouth?" look that the coffee stains would have presented.

 

Ok.  So with a beautiful Sunday, a well manicured county park, and an entire Islanders organization ready to take on their loyal fan base for a day of music, games and autographs, I pulled into parking lot 6.  Little Miss Paranoid (that would be ME) was a little uncomfortable when the police urged me out of line and toward a different parking lot.  "Uh oh.  What the heck did I do now?"  They kept waving me further and further up the road.  I ended up in the FIRST parking lot, just a few feet from the entrance way.  "hmmmmm..... Maybe it's my license plates?"  I wondered.  But whatever it is, I had a primo space, grabbed my camera and my media guide and headed in.

 

It was only about 1:05 pm, and the lines were already in full force.  There were white tents with tables and blue & orange signs stating the players’ name and number that would be signing there.  There were balloons and a band and blow up things for the kids and the smell of… hot dogs from the concession stand.  (I couldn’t think about it.  I had already downed a Boston crème with that coffee I wore.  There would be NO eating at this event.)

 

As I am quite myopic in crowds, I just set sight on finding IQ and 4Cupz and simply made a bee-line down the hill toward them standing on Ted Nolan’s line.  The sun was blinding and of course, I couldn’t find a pair of sunglasses anywhere, so I stayed focused on IQ and just walked straight ahead hoping not to bowl over any little ones on my way.

 

“Do you have any idea how many people you walked right past without saying hi to?” She asked me.  I was a little surprised, because seriously, I didn’t see a thing.  It was just a blur of summer clothes I was passing.  It could have been a Macy’s window for all I knew.  “Of course not, you just kept your eye on me.”  Yes… Like a lighthouse beacon so I wouldn’t go adrift, that is the Queen.

 

“Do you believe it’s this hot… AGAIN??”  She asked standing there in corduroy pants and a long sleeve top.  “No.  That’s why I wore a tank top.  But I should have rethought the boots for sure.”  We chatted for a few minutes and then I was drawn to the band shell for the introduction of the 2007-2008 New York Islanders as announced by the commanding voice of Steve Mears.

 

One by one, the boys were introduced to the loving crowd.  Those without sunglasses squinted in the afternoon sun while the music blared behind them. It was the same as last season.  The crowd, the music, the ice girls tossing t-shirts into the crowd, the excitement of a new season.  But it was different, as this team is different.  Last year everyone was worried about how our new GM would fare with team decisions.  This year he was introduced to loud cheers and applause.  No one is worried now.

 

After a brief speech by Garth and Ted, the boys headed to their assigned spots for autographs.  It was like watching a parade.  Many people had stayed on the lines rather than gather by the band shell, especially those who know that these events are designed well, but there is never enough time to get ALL the autographs.  And I’ll explain why….

 

1)     This is the time for schmoozing with the STHs.  There is chatter, there is picture taking.

2)     Many people bring multiple items to sign, and the players graciously sign them.

3)     There are more STHs than you think there are and the lines don’t move quickly as the players don’t want to make it seem like an assembly line.

 

So, that being said…. WOULD THE SUBSCRIBER WHO BADGERED THEIR TICKET REP PLEASE REALIZE THAT IT WAS THEIR OWN FAULT THEY DIDN’T GET RICKY’S AUTOGRAPH!  If you do not know how to work one of these events, please let me enlighten you.  Let’s call this “Autograph Party 101.”

 

PLAN on only being able to get 3 – 5 autographs at the event, or 6 to 10 as there are two players at each table.  DECIDE before you arrive which players you want first.  Those are the lines to stand on.  And please, plan on spending the entire time there.  This event opened its gates at 12:30.  It was scheduled to run till 4 pm.  Any person of intelligence would understand that lines need to be capped at a certain point in order to END the event on time.  I actually saw someone pull up with their child at 3 pm as I was leaving.  And lastly, if you can have someone else with you, use them as a placeholder in line.  This way you can move more quickly through the lines.  But that doesn’t mean bring 8 photos of each player to sign.  Someone behind you (like me) may get really pissy at you after I find these items on sale on E-bay Monday morning.  I can’t imagine that all this work and effort goes into this event so that you can make a few bucks on memorabilia.   And don’t think the players don’t know.  Ok.  Enough of the rant.

 

Personally, I started my wait on Bergenheim’s line.  I haven’t had a chance to speak with him face to face since his return to Long Island, so I felt this was the perfect opportunity to take 2 minutes of his time.  No longer a boy, but with the same big smile and bright blue eyes, he thanked me for all the support I had given him.  I wondered if he knew how we had tracked his every move in the Swedish Elite League.  With motherly reassurance, I held his arm for a moment, the same way I had done at the STH event in January of ’06.  “Welcome home Sean.  Make the most of it.”  He smiled and nodded in acknowledgement of what I said.  I could have walked away from the table and been happy, but Bates was on the other side of him, and I felt it would have been rude to not have him sign the media guide as well.  There was NO conversation or any sound uttered.

 

With my intended mission accomplished I was now free to schmooze around the park.  My blue-eyed Irish Prince looked cool and oddly tres-casual in shorts and shades, but still doing what he does best:  Making the customers happy.  Mr. Lockhart was wandering the field with notebook and camera in hand.  I spent 15 enlightening minutes talking with ITV’s Josh Bernstein.  He’s an amazing wealth of knowledge.  Steve Mears said he didn’t know what to do with himself with the long layover, and Corey Witt wasn’t that delighted with my idea of piping in the radio feed to the Blog Box.  My new found, minor cyber-fame garnered me a few smiles and “hellos” from people I had never met before, and a few people came up to say they were avid fans of the NYIC board.  It still amazes me how shy some people still are.  They can talk a blue streak from behind a computer screen, but shy away with eye contact.

 

There was plenty of time left for me so I stood on Bruno’s line as I felt I COULD ask him to sign my media guide there, as I couldn’t do it during the Blog Box interview.  They tell me that would be a blogger faux-pas of the highest degree.  But I was there now as the fan that I am, so I opened the book to his picture and laid it on the table.  “I don’t like this picture.  Do you?  Don’t you think I should be smiling?  I look mean here.”  And before I could stop myself, I heard “You’re adorable no matter what your expression is.”  I just envisioned my blogger privileges being revoked right then and there.  “Oh!  You make me blush!” he said as he handed me back the book, but I think I was the one that looked like a radish about then.

 

I wandered over to stand on the line for Sillinger and Berard.  I didn’t need to, but I was talking to Webby and Mrs. Webby and IQ and 4Cupz anyway.  The fact that at the end of the line were smiling Islanders with sharpies was strictly a bonus.

 

A bullhorn sounded that interrupted the band.  “Everyone turn AROUND and look at the Ranger fan!”  Ricky had taken one of the guards’ bullhorns and was harassing a young man in line.  He could have started a riot for sure.  Everyone on that line would have done anything he said at that point.  But he laughed, the young man motioned to bring on the abuse, and at least, he didn’t leave limping.

 

Yes, it was far more pleasant this year.  IQ and I shared an ice cream (damn it!  I ate any way) and an ice water and we didn’t have to hit the ladies room five times just to cool off.  I said my good byes and headed back to my car for the ride home, sweaty but happy.  Sunroof open, and all the windows down, I drove out of the park and onto Hempstead Turnpike.

 

This park holds a lot of very special memories for me.  From the time I was 12 to 14, I was involved in (and this is a long one) the Nassau County Teen Repertory company, housed out of the park.  We would travel to each county park doing plays in the summer.  They could never do that now.  They’d never be able to afford the insurance.  When I think that my friend Gail and I were sandwiched in the cab of a truck between three 20-something park workers, dragging the 60 ft “Show Mobile” around, I know how much times have changed.  But they are great memories that I would never trade.  Maybe I’d trade the ones of getting caught in Field 5, making out in a parked car when I was 17.  But hey… you take the good with the bad.  And this was definitely going in the memory banks as another good memory of a great day in the park.

 

Thanks to everyone for making it possible!