What’s Canada, if not hockey?

I’m in Toronto and there’s a hockey game: ice hockey of course, and the grammatically challenged Toronto Maple Leafs are playing the Ottawa Senators.  

 I buy my ticket on line before I leave home, take a screen shot of it and front up at the Scotiabank Arena.  I stand in a loooong line to get in, and “Sorry Ma’am, we need to see your ticket”

This is my ticket 

“This is a PDF and we don’t accept PDFs.  You need to go see someone in a green T-shirt”

Long story short, it takes 30 minutes to get in, and the young lad in the green T-shirt feels so bad he takes my seat number and later brings me a bag of Maple Leaf memorabilia, including a First Game certificate.  If anyone has been hanging out for a Toronto Maple Leafs (sic) lanyard, let me know. 

My seat is in the nosebleed section and I need a Sherpa to carry my beer. 

You think New Zealanders get passionate about the All Blacks. You haven’t been to ice hockey. 

The guy next to me is unfailingly patient in explaining what’s happening in the ice.  

Much like American Football, the clock stops frequently - three 20 minute periods take two hours. Two hours of fast and furious action, a particular strain of rock music, hot dogs, beers and cries of Go Leafs Go. 

The Senators won 5-3. 

P.S. I’ve tried adding photos but it’s not working- this is why I need my iPad. Which is apparently in Toronto at DHL ‘on hold’.