The Madhouse on Valentines Day

Could you believe it that I had lived thirty years on this Earth consuming Chicago sports teams of the Bulls, Bears and Cubs only to finally see my first NBA game on Valentines Day this year? Even further you ask "how did you sell your lady on the idea of seeing a ball game on V Day?" Simple - I sold the ticket purchase months ago for two section 328 seats for what they were...an experience. Truth is I've learned I love experiencing new films, food meccas, sporting events and travel with my girlfriend Ally in the year and a half we have been together. Ernest Hemingway once said, after a disastrous vacation with F. Scott Fitzgerald "Never take a trip with someone you don't love." Even if this was truly in the platonic sense with a friend, I couldn't agree more.

My temper tends to erupt when I encounter traffic in the Chicago land area. I take Metra and the el when I can. That time, since I live in the NW suburbs, had to be by car. Once on Madison Street in the West Loop, parking and getting inside the stadium was easy enough. I think about visiting any new foodie hot spot but soon shed these desires for thirty minutes from that moment, a 7pm tip off between the Derrick Rose-less Chicago Bulls would commence against the Sacramento Kings.

At least two years had past since I was last in the Madhouse on Madison. At that time I was with a friend and a larger random group of people that consisted of less than appealing company - how does one say caddy women and douche men? The Blackhawks played and lost a 3-1 lackluster performance to the Calgary Flames. The game was only capped off by a fist fight that had a Hawks player flooring an upstart Canadian - seriously, the Blackhawk player hit this guy so hard that he had to be carted off of the ice.

Changes had been made to the decor of the United Center, mostly in the form of a post-modern steel and glass design with nostalgic images of Chicago Bulls and Blackhawk favorites that melt even this critical heart. Plus, i had to salute them for designing lounges that had decades of random Chicago Stadium and United Center concert passes (Led Zeppelin to Neal Diamond) encased beneath the glass of bar tables. Ally and I both muscled our way through a lackluster and pricy steak sandwich. I figured I should have complained for the quality of the steak and the prickly service of the growling fifty-year-old woman with a thin mustace behind the counter. Screw it - Ally and I were at the United Center and we were going to watch one of the best teams in the NBA. Two Green Line Pale Ales later from an admirable selection of beers, we sat up in our upper deck seats.

For much of the first and fourth quarter I got into a close game the only way I know how - yelling, balling up my fists in frustration, and watching intently for a spot of brilliance to scream for as those professionals fall all over themselves. Ally says I do this during most Bears games and fellow fans would probably agree. Reigning MVP Rose sat out that night after continued back spasms. Sad for not seeing him in my first game, just like it was for a friend of mine in the glorious 90's for the Bulls when Jordan had just retired for one of I think four times. I have come to know the strengths and weaknesses of Boozer, Noah, Gibson and the like just like I have with Chicago Bears and Cubs players - we do not worship but live and die with the teams we love. Last May when Ally and I spent five days out in Las Vegas, we spent part of one night in a crowded bar at the Monte Carlo on the strip, drinking and verbally spitting at the T.V with Bulls and Heat fans alike. I couldn't have loved her more.

For those who aren't completely sold on basketball, a game at the United Center is loaded with attractions. There was Benny the Bull, when he wasn't molesting a fan, tossing out free T-shirts and shooting silly string into the hair of middle-aged balding men. The jumbo-tron in the center kept track of stats, playing goofy digital skits like at Wrigley or the Cell, and blasted out what had to be more than thirty selections of rap, pop, hip-hop and traditional Chicago-style blues.There were plenty of walking space and thankfully, aside from the highways, the stadium was easy to park and get out from.

I seriously wish, aside from all the adventures that I could take and places I could eat, that I would be able to afford more Bulls games at a unique time for the club. Like all Chicago teams, they kept us on the edge of our seats as the Bulls fought the Kings towards a 121-115 victory. Having seen those six NBA championship banners hang in the rafters, I knew that even though I want my Cubbies to win the World Series before I die, and the Bears to make a more than half-assed run at the super bowl next year, I want our Bulls to slap that smug grin of the Miami Heat and tack up another banner. For then, leaving the stadium, I took Ally's hand and realized that in a past, full of years that I just despised my single status around February 14th, the 2012 V-Day was one of the best because of Ally.