A Blackhawks Fan Gets Past The Lightning's Defenses For Game 1

ORLANDO, Fla. -- It's 106 miles to Tampa, I've got a full tank of gas, half a pack of gum, it's sunny and I'm wearing Blackhawks gear.

Hit it.

When the Stanley Cup finals schedule was announced and I realized my work trip to Orlando would put me just 90 minutes away from Tampa Bay, where my beloved Blackhawks would be facing the Lightning in Game 1, I knew I had to make the trip. But first I had to resist giving in to the intimidation efforts of the Lightning, who tried to make it as tough as possible for Blackhawks fans like me to infiltrate Amalie Arena.

You see, Chicago sports fans are notoriously good travelers. They'll get themselves pretty much anywhere to support their teams, and once there, they take over opposing stadiums, erasing the home-court advantage of their enemies. True to form, Blackhawks fans took over Nashville in the opening round of this postseason, invaded Minnesota in the second round and then drowned out Duck fans in Anaheim in Game 7 of the Western Conference finals.

The Lightning were determined not to be the latest victim of Chicago fans with wanderlust and some cash to burn. They tried their darndest to keep Blackhawks fans out of their barn Wednesday night, restricting initial ticket sales to those with a Florida ZIP code and then announcing that Blackhawks gear of any kind would be banned from certain sections of the arena.

The Lightning had the same policies in place for the previous rounds of the postseason, but the restrictions got extra attention when put into action in the Stanley Cup finals. Many people -- even sports radio hosts in Florida -- called the move bush league and argued that the Lightning are too talented and popular to resort to such tricks.

They may be right, but when I arrived at the plaza outside Amalie Arena on Wednesday night, it seemed like the tricks had worked. Bolts sweaters and caps made up a sea of blue, with just a few small pockets of red dotting the crowd. And nearly every single Chicago fan I spoke to was a resident of the Sunshine State.

There were a few fans, like Russ and Pat Fahrner, of Chicago, who bought their Section 307 tickets through an online ticket broker, where secondary sellers care only about your cash and not your allegiances.

James Little and his friends, in town from St. Catharines, Ontario, managed to bypass the Lightning ticket policy using a good old-fashioned hookup. Little said he and Andrew Shaw used to be roommates when Shaw played junior hockey in Ontario, so the Blackhawks forward set the guys up to buy tickets through the team.

I've never split the rent with a member of the Blackhawks, so I had to plunk down the big bucks on StubHub for my ticket, grabbing a lower-level seat close enough to smell the action (of course, that might have just been stinky hockey gear). After triple-checking to be the sure the section I was in didn't have wardrobe restrictions, I smoothed out my Blackhawks T-shirt, straightened my Blackhawks hat and steeled myself to face enemy Bolts fans.

I didn't need to worry much, as most of the fans in the arena were perfectly nice. (Not including you, creepy guys who were trading cards from local strip clubs and directing inappropriate comments my way while I tried to scarf down a chicken taco at intermission.) I did, however, end up sitting next to a man who checked off most of the boxes on the "bad seat neighbor" chart.

First, the manspreading. For a guy his size -- at least 6-foot-3 -- he achieved a remarkably wide split. I spent the entire game pressed against his right thigh, which took over most of my leg room. During the game he repeated things like "Here it comes!" and "Watch this!" whenever the Lightning would take the puck anywhere near the Blackhawks' net. He spent a minimum of six minutes trying to take a photo of the Stanley Cup logo on his beer, and many more minutes taking video of the game, drawing complaints from people in the rows behind him who couldn't see over his outstretched arms.

The good news is, his arm managed to be tucked by his side when it mattered most: both times the Blackhawks scored. I saw them both, and I relished the chance to jump up and celebrate with the rest of the Chicago fans scattered throughout my section. (And fortunately, my neighbor's flaws didn't extend to being a sore loser. He let me have my fun unencumbered.)

The Lightning may have succeeded in limiting the number of red sweaters in the building Wednesday night, but they didn't succeed on the ice, falling to the Hawks 2-1.

And as the game ended, they had no restrictions in place for the "Let's go, Hawks" chants that filled the concourse as fans filed out of the stadium. Nor could they stop Chicago fans from singing their team's goal song, "Chelsea Dagger," as they bounced down the steps to the plaza, which was slowly emptying as disappointed Bolts fans packed up their folding chairs to head home.

The Blackhawks are just three more wins away from their third Stanley Cup victory in six years. They can get the first of those wins Saturday night when they play the Lightning in Game 2 at Amalie Arena. I'll be back in Chicago by then, so I don't think I'll be making the drive to Tampa Bay.

Then again ... I won't rule it out. "It's 1,200 miles to Tampa" has a nice ring to it.