If you follow me on social media, you may know that I am a Los Angeles Kings fan. I’m not kuh-ray-zee, but I am definitely enthusiastic. I love me some Kaaannnngggsss. I know that meeting a black woman with a love for hockey is a bit like stumbling upon a unicorn in the woods … or a unicorn anywhere. I’m sure it’d be just as surreal finding a unicorn in downtown Chicago. But here I am.
So how does a black girl from Jersey become a hockey fan?
I was on Twitter one night reading my @ mentions when I saw a tweet from the LA Kings account inviting me to come to a game:
@LAKings: @unfoRETTAble how could we persuade you to come to a LA hockey game and live tweet it?
@unfoRETTAble: .@LAKings Hahaha. I’d love to but I don’t know jack a/b hockey. I’d just talk about who was cute on the sideline. #IsThereEvenASideline
@LAKings: @unfoRETTAble that would be absolutely perfect. We have some good lookin gents on the team. @rainnwilson knows.
@unfoRETTAble: .@LAKings Done. P. S. Congrats on that shiny cup y’all won. It’s real purty.
@LAKings: @unfoRETTAble amazing. DM us and we’ll get you all hooked up. and thank you very much, you should see the rings.
@katieferg: @LAKings @unfoRETTAble Holy. Crap. So jealous! Retta is absolutely the greatest person on Twitter. Have fun!
@LAKings: @katieferg she’s a legend!
That last one was just so y’all would know I AM LEGEND.
I decided to go, and took my friend Ted with me to the game because I didn’t know shit about hockey. He’s a big sports fan, so I figured he’d be interested in this version of “lacrosse on ice.” We had the VIP hookup, which means we had free valet parking. And while valet parking at the Staples Center for Kings games is wayyyyy cheaper than, say, for a Lakers game, free is free. It made me feel fancy.
When we got there, we were greeted by Pat, a handsome, bearded young man who is the director of digital media for the LA Kings, aka the guy behind the tweets. He was with Heather, a delightfully sunny blonde. They introduced themselves, and then Pat handed me an official jersey that read TREAT YO SELF on the back. Pat was a big Parks and Rec fan, followed me on Twitter, and thought I was funny and “legendary” at the live-tweet, which is what led to the now-monumental invite. He had had the jersey made for me. For ME. A total stranger had gifted me a personalized piece of clothing. I mean, the free parking was already enough to make the trip worth it, but now this? Needless to say, I was helluh geeked. I basically made this trip for the beer and ended up with a new article of clothing! The Kings coulda been the worst team in the league, but that simple gift opened my heart to these yet-unseen ice Vikings.
(That jersey is now one of my prized possessions. Pat would later say in a radio interview that getting me to become a Kings fan is one of his proudest moments. And I told him it was the jersey, homie. It. Was. The. Jersey.)
Once we got inside, Heather took us down one level and through some heavy double doors that were manned by a security guy who was very serious about checking that our tickets allowed us on this level. The hallway was lined with photos of LA sports stars and championship teams including Kobe, Shaq, and the National Championship–winning Lakers. I was like, “Daaaaaang. Okaaaay. I can hang with this crew.” Then we entered another hallway that looked like it could serve as the passageway for deliveries, i.e., it was not pretty, so I was wondering, Where the hell is this chick taking us? As if reading my mind, she told us: “We’re going to the Chairman’s Room.” Not gonna lie, my posture straightened a little, and I strode as though newly knighted. Your girl was doin’ big thangs.
The Chairman’s Room1 turned out to be a li’l barroom that had snacks and TVs playing sports channels. I assumed the bar served free drinks and was geeked about the prospect of a comped buzz (I believe I mentioned my pleasure in free gets—see “valet” above) but alas, it was a full-compensation bar. There was an older black couple at the bar, and for me it wasn’t a big deal cuz this is LA. Black folks are everywhere, right? But the novelty was lost on me because I forgot where I was. I was at a hockey game, in the Chairman’s Room, where people with the baller-baller/shot-caller tickets hang out. The novelty was not lost on the older gentleman, who, upon seeing me, lit up with such excitement that I thought maybe I knew him. I didn’t. He was like, “Hey, sistuh!” A little thrown by his eagerness, I was like, “Heyyyy … sir.” And then it dawned on me. We were THREE unicorns in a basement bar. Even this unicorn couldn’t believe it.
When it was time for “tip-off” (that’s what I called it cuz, as I mentioned, I didn’t know shit about hockey), we left the Chairman’s Room. Heather directed us toward a group of people gathering near a tunnel, and that’s when I saw them. THE PLAYERS. They were click-clacking right toward us. They were fucking UGE. I say UGE because a friend of mine says UGE when she finds things are even bigger than HUGE. I had no idea they were so tall, so massive. They looked like the Chicago Bears defensive line if they wore lifts in their cleats. Just enormous. THIS piqued my interest. Nothing makes a big gal like myself feel petite and feminine like a pack of giants striding by on the way to a brawl—literally. Hockey is basically a melee on skates with a few goals here and there. I like to call it the Clash of the Ice Titans.
We had second-row seats and were next to Colin Hanks and a friend of his. Colin and I had recently met at a staged reading, so it felt as though I had a crew. I placed my beer in the cup holder and opened the program to see what these titans looked like without helmets. I was pleasantly surprised to find that more than one of them was hot like fish grease. Coupled with how large they were, this made me feel warm things inside. I promptly pulled out my phone and created my first hockey Vine vid-tweet, called “They Can Get It.”
Both Colin and Ted tried to explain the game to me, but they might as well have been speaking Swahili for as much as I understood. I did, however, make an analogy that Colin was impressed with: “icing” is to hockey what intentional grounding is to football. He said, “I can’t believe I’ve never thought to make that comparison,” and I thought I was a sporting genius. But that was as far as my genius went. To this day, I don’t get how the players know exactly when to substitute from the bench without so much as a hand gesture.
I was having such a good time that even Bailey the Lion had me in stitches, which is quite a feat, seeing as mascots freak me the frack out. By the end of the second period, we were down 2-1, but no matter. I was in hog heaven because I had a cold Newcastle and live, thrilling, action-packed entertainment.
My bubble was burst when Ted told me that if the Kings lost the game, I would be considered bad juju and would likely not be invited back. I panicked as though I were about to miss the last flight home for Christmas. That third period started, and I’d never cheered so hard for something I didn’t understand in my LIFE. We scored two goals that period and won that game. I looked at my Twitter feed at the end, and there were tweets regaling me as good luck! I reveled in the honor as though I had actually had anything to do with the night’s win.
@mabrywilliams: Okay so clearly @unfoRETTAble is a good luck charm and has to go to every game now!
@LAKings make this happen!
@OffTrackCooking: @unfoRETTAble I gotta say you brought some good ass luck down there! Nice job! You ever need a game-mate let me know!
@unfoRETTAble: @OffTrackCooking haHA!!! I does what I does.
@ColinHanks: Sat next to @unfoRETTAble during her first hockey game. She brought the @LAKings good fortune.
@chanelleberlin: My phone died at the very end, but what a HUGE win for the @LAKings. Tadah forever!
@unfoRETTAble, congrats on being good luck.
@unfoRETTAble: @chanelleberlin Haha! Thanks!
@Jonathan_Biles: Good luck charm like @unfoRETTAble. MT@BillSimmons: Went to Blues-Kings. My daughter is 12-1 lifetime in playoffs.
After that, I was hooked. I attended several games the following season. I would always bring my jersey and put it on once I got there, because I didn’t want to do anything different from my last “good luck” effort. Because I attended games as a guest of the organization, I was given prime seats. A few times I sat in the owner’s box, but more often than not, I was seated on the glass near the team, and that was my favorite. I was ALL IN. I was a superstitious, jersey-wearing, glass-banging, full-fledged Kings fan.
I was often reunited with my homie Colin Hanks at the glass and he gave me a few tips on sitting on the glass:
1. Never eat during the game because you WILL be photographed stuffing your face. Nothing like seeing a pic of yourself on the internet with a hotdog shoved down your gullet.
2. Never sit your beer on the ledge because skaters moving at full speed WILL slam up against that glass and that beer WILL become one with your lap.
I had been so accustomed to sitting on the glass that the one time I was seated in the sixth or seventh row behind the Blackhawks I felt like the redheaded stepchild. I know, I know, high-class problems. Trust me, Heather, who got me the seats, let me know I was in NO WAY a redheaded stepchild in the seventh row during game 5 of the Blackhawk series. We actually had a ball because we were seated next to some guys who were not only hilarious but gentlemen, to boot, cuz they bought us beers. Again, I like beer. Anyway, because I had become superstitious at this point, whenever the Kings scored I needed to bang on the glass … otherwise we wouldn’t win … obvi. So when we scored our first goal in that game, I ran down to the glass to bang on it and was promptly stopped by security. What I didn’t realize, because I was always seated on the glass near the team, was that the glass behind the teams was ACTUAL GLASS, not Plexi. Dude was tryna keep me from causing some real prahlums.
I also hadn’t realized that the photographers on the other side of the ice were capturing the whole thing. The Breakdown:
A Kings fan watches her team intently.
Yes! Goal! Go Kings Go!
GO KINGS GOOOOO!!!!
That is when I knew just screaming wasn’t enough. I had to get in the game if I was to ensure this win. I was gonna make this shit happen! Red Blazer had a different idea.
“Ma’am, what do you think you’re doing?”
“I have to bang on the glass.”
“Ma’am. Please return to your seat.”
“But it’s just so exciting.”
“Please return to your seat, ma’am.”
I eventually took to just leaning on the glass.
It worked. We beat the Blackhawks 5-2 that night.
At this point I was clearly ALL IN … almost. I was 100 percent behind the Kings. I DID BELIEVE, but I started getting tweets from other Kings fans to put Justin Williams on my lock screen. Apparently this was becoming a thing, a thing I just wasn’t into. I mean I’m superstitious, Justin is my boo and Mr. Game 7, but really? I just wasn’t feelin’ it.
So it’s game 7 of the semifinal series and we’re playing in Chicago. The game does not start off well. Less than halfway through the first period the Blackhawks went up 2-0. I was at a bar called The Belmont in LA with some friends watching the game. Inside, the place was packed with Blackhawks fans who were out of their minds with glee. I was sick to my stomach. It was crazy. It looked like they were about to blow us out of the water. I kept getting these #JustinWilliamsLockScreen tweets and was getting annoyed that people had nothing better to do than harass me about this stupid lock screen. Let’s put our energies into willing a Kings goal, for God’s sake. Eight minutes later we scored a goal that had to be reviewed and I took that time to look through my @mentions. People were insistent about this lock screen and I thought to myself, This game is going to be kuh-ray-zee. Fuckin’ ’ell, what could it hurt? I googled pics of Justin, found one that I thought he looked supes cute in, and I swear to God just as I hit SET LOCK SCREEN do you know that motherfucker scored a goal to tie it up?!?!?! I. Lost. My. MINNNNNNDDD! I was like, HOLY SHIT, that shit worked? My heart was racing. I finally recovered and calmed the hell down to go back to watching the game only to have Chicago score within minutes to take back the lead 3-2.
The second period starts and not much is happening. It’s a full ten minutes and I’m anxious so I start rubbing the lock screen for luck and I shit you not, we scored AGAIN!!!! It was 3-3 and I’m thinkin’ this lock-screen nonsense is legit. Of course I am now maniacal about it. I’m rubbing that iPhone screen like there’s a genie locked inside. We end up going into overtime, again, and winning the game 5-4 off of a random goal that bounced off a Blackhawk’s shoulder. That goalie didn’t have a chance, and I’m not gonna lie, I really started to feel like I might actually be good luck. No sooner did the game end than the tweets from Rangers fans started coming in. All of them warning me how they were gonna kick our asses. I was like, can a bitch get a second to enjoy this win?? Shit.
Next up was the final series against the New York Rangers. I knew tickets were going to be impossible so I didn’t bother asking, and not because I thought I’d be told no but because I didn’t want anyone to think I was stupid enough to think there would be Stanley Cup tickets available. I can’t remember what I was doing, but I received a text from mah girrr Heather:
Heather: Retta!!
Heather: 2 things:
Heather: Are you around Saturday if I can get you tickets? It’s brutal, but I will fight for them
Heather: Also, the NHL is interested in talking to you about presenting at the NHL awards in Vegas. If you are, what is the best way for them to reach out?
Whaaaaa? Am I avail to come to a Stanley Cup championship game?? Yaaaassssssss. I was so geeked because, as much fun as I had during regular season games, Staples was gonna be off the motherfuckin’ HOOK for this shit. And then, as if THAT wasn’t enough, I received this:
Heather: So the commissioner of the NHL would like to host you in his box. Will be fun—he hosts a lot of high profile types like yourself
Heather: I will put tix at valet for you boo. Woot Woot!!
Me: For reals??
Me: Can I bring someone?
Heather: Yep yep—to both
Me: Hahahaha. Cool.
Heather: I will come see you—this is so GD stressful/exciting!!!!
Hol’ up! Hol’ up! Hol’ up! You mean to tell me I’m ’bout to hang wit da commish? Girrrrrrl you ain’t said nuttin’ but a word.
So I go to Game 2 of the Kings/Rangers series at Staples Center. The commissioner’s box is one of those baller-baller suites with free eats and beer. It’s a couple doors down from Hyde Lounge, which is a straight-up club right there in the stadium. For reals. An untz untz untz club IN the arena. There were some important-looking folks in the box and some familiar faces, including Will Arnett and his son Archie, whom I have met on several occasions on the set of Parks And Rec, Chloë Grace Moretz and her brother Ethan, and Jason Reitman. I gave a quick hello to Will and Archie, then my friend Gina and I sat in the front row, and who is already there? None other than my homie Colin Hanks. He and his wife, Samantha, were there to root for our Kings and it was a full-circle moment for me. Jay Ferguson and his son came not long after we sat down and sat next to us. Jay’s son was probably around eight years old and this was his first game. HIS FIRST GAME! And he’s at a Stanley Cup finals game in the commissioner’s box.
And I thought I had been livin’ high on the hog. I soon meet Nirva Milord, director of entertainment publicity and corporate communications for the NHL, and she introduces me to Gary Bettman, the commissioner of the NHL. Soooo you could say I was rubbin’ shoulders. My first Stanley Cup series and I’m chillin’ wit da commish. No big. Relax.
The game was exciting for no other reason than #BecauseItsTheCup. The Rangers scored two goals in the first period and I was just sick, but then I had a moment of clarity. We had been doing this ALL post-season long. I was talking with one of the important-looking people in the box and she said the same thing. The Kings weren’t happy unless they were coming from behind. Once I had made my peace with this notion, I could actually calm down. Then Nirva comes up and asks if I would do an on-camera interview for the championship DVD. I said sure, but I was nervous because as much as I had grown to love the Kings, I still didn’t know SHIT about hockey.
I go into the hallway to do the interview, and I take my friend Gina with me to be on grooming duty. She was to watch me and help mitigate the shine on my face because, after Whitney Houston, no one sweats on camera more than me. They ask me a few softball questions that I answer simply enough, but then they ask something along the lines of how do I feel about this matchup and my answer was as follows:
“I don’t know much about hockey or the Rangers but here’s what I do know. The Rangers are helluh fast on that ice and they have the hottest goalie in the league but FUCK the Rangers!”
What the hell?? Who exactly did I think I was? I JUST became a Kings fan and now I’m talkin’ shit? Oof. Clearly I was trippin’. All I could think was please don’t put that nonsense on the DVD … ESPECIALLY if the Rangers win. That would NOT be a good look.
I went back into the suite to watch the second period and we scored. Our crowd went F’n apeshit. We were in this thang. But it didn’t take long for the Rangers to score. They led 3-1 and once again we were like, WTF? I was now starting to regret my bravado in that interview. Then they scored AGAIN and it was like well, fuck. There’s no stopping these dudes. And then in the third we scored two goals, tied that shit up, and it was on like Donkey Kong. We were so geeked we didn’t know WHAT to do. I’d had so many beers and peed so many times that I’d burned a track in the carpet from my seat to the ladies’ room.
Then the unthinkable happened. I went to the bar to get yet another beer only to be told they stopped serving near the end of the third period. Whaaaaa? We have overtime. What the hell are we to do? I was almost on the verge of tears when I remembered a friend I had run into on the way into the stadium told me he watches the game at Hyde. I texted him, he met me outside the Hyde entrance and introduced me to the VIP host, who gave me her business card and let me in. I got a couple drinks and took them back to our suite and we were golden for overtime.
There were so many close calls for both teams but no one scored. We were going into double overtime, and now I’m taking drink orders from Hyde and playing waitress for the suite. In the second overtime Dustin Brown scored at around the nine-minute mark and you’d have thought that was the final game. We were high-fivin’ and screaming our heads off. It felt good.
It was a good day.
The Kings beat the Rangers in game 3 at Madison Square Garden. As nervous as I was at the beginning of the series, I couldn’t believe there was a chance of us sweeping this thing. How was that even possible? We LIVED for game 7. So when game 4 came around, don’t tell nobody but I kinda wanted the team to lose so they could come back to LA and win it at home. Aaaand sure enough, we lost 2-1 in game 4.
Now it was time for game 5 and I had no expectations of getting in that arena. I had plans to do a late brunch out in Topanga Canyon and intended to watch the game at a Kings-friendly bar. I drove out to Topanga Canyon with my friend Rosa. We caravanned with two other cars to the Inn of the Seventh Ray for brunch. There were six adults and two kids. We were enjoying a lovely meal when at 2:46 p.m. I got a text from Heather:
Heather: Retta! NHL just came through with 2 for you in the box. Can you come?
Me: Yasssssss!!!!!
Heather: K—at valet
Me: Suh-weeeeeet!!!
Me: My heart is racing cuz we’re “rushing” back from Malibu to change and catch the puck drop. God help us! I need to bang some shallow glass.
It was like I won the lottery. I asked Rosa if she wanted to go and she was like, hell yeah! We flew outta that restaurant so fast. And it is NOT a quick trip back to Hollywood from Malibu. I was so excited I could feel my heart beating in my chest. It took what felt like an eternity for us to get to our respective homes, and I got ready as fast as I could but I had to look as cute as possible #BecauseItsTheCup!
Needless to say, traffic was not our friend and we missed the puck drop. We entered the box to find it filled with hot guys: Nick Zano, Channing Tatum, Joshua Jackson, Joe Jonas, Oliver Hudson, and Wyatt Russell. Chloë Grace was back to represent as well. We also missed getting our front-row seat on the low glass of the box. Joe Jonas was in my seat. This made me nervous because, as I’ve said, I’m superstitious and I was on the glass when we won game 2. Mr. Bettman (The Commish) was back in the box and this time it was like we were old friends, at least for me. Rosa had taken to calling him Uncle Gary, which kept us both amused.
Anyway, the game started and we were not there long before mah boo, aka JDub aka Justin Williams, scored the first goal. This was the beginning of a lot of up and down for me. The Rangers scored the next two goals, and that’s when I started to get antsy. I bounce my right leg when I’m nervous, and there was a whole lot of bouncing going on. Rosa kept saying, “I don’t know, Retta. The Rangers are gooood.” And KNOW that THAT made me craaaaazy. I was like, you can’t sit with me and say shit like that. I’m way too invested in this club to hear anything disparaging.
We tied it up about eight minutes into the third. There was a shot by the Rangers that hit the post and could’ve ruined my night but the puck bounced in our favor and I knew in my heart that this shit was going to overtime and I was STRESSED. Not just because we could lose but because I knew they had stopped serving alcohol!! So once again I was hitting up Hyde to retrieve my nerve juice, which for that night was vodka soda. Overtime was so stressful, but not as stressful as getting to the end of overtime and realizing we were once again going into a second overtime. Yes. A SECOND overtime. AGAIN.
I don’t think I sat down once during the second overtime. My leg was shaking. I was wringing my hands. I was goin’ THROUGH it. That second overtime felt like there were nothing but shots on the Kings’ goal and God bless Quickie cuz he wasn’t havin’ it. But then it happened. With 5:17 left on the clock Martinez made the shot, and I thought I’d pass out from elation. Ho. Lee. Shit, we just won this goddamn game. Staples went batshit fucking crazy. I was screaming. Martinez was doing jazz hands on the ice. The team was rushing him. It. Was. Awesome.
So the original question was “Since when am I a hockey fan?” and the answer is the instant I was a part of that championship moment. It felt good and to think I might have missed out on it because my first instinct was I ain’t goin’ all the way to Staples for hockey. I don’t know shit about hockey. Because I was able to keep an open mind and just go on an adventure I’ve had so many memorable opportunities. Those opportunities include:
• Presenting at two NHL Awards, where I met Luc Robitaille and Cam Neely
• Meeting the Keeper of the Cup
• Taking pictures with the Stanley Cup
• Live-tweeting EPIX’s Road to the NHL Stadium Series
• Meeting Brent Burns, aka “Burnzie,” while live-tweeting Road to the NHL Stadium Series
• Attending home games of the New York Rangers, Boston Bruins, Anaheim Ducks, and Dallas Stars
• Taking over NHL Snapchat for a night
• Appearing on NHL Live
And I got to present the Best Team Award to the Kings at Sports Spectacular’s thirtieth annual awards show, where Luc told me and the audience gathered that they needed me back because they believe I’m good luck. I feel like he says this to a lot of people, but it still felt special.
As a Duke alum and Blue Devil fan who was in the stands at our last national-championship win away from Cameron Indoor Stadium, I can tell you there’s nothing like being in your home stadium and having nearly all 18,000 fans in attendance lose their shit because their boys just did their damn thing. So, yes, I’m officially a hockey fan. Like a first-time gambler hitting the Vegas progressive jackpot with only a twenty-dollar bill, or a newbie winning a superfecta on their first trip to the track, it’s been a perfect storm for a vuh-ry suh-rious problem. This unicorn is hooked! #GoKingsGo2