Back before I met James, my parents had a season ticket mini plan for the Carolina Hurricanes. My brother and I went a lot. Our favorite player was Mike Commodore. I mean, how can you not love this? Kevin even got a Commodore jersey. Needless to say, we were disappointed when he was traded. I promptly ordered an official Mike Commodore Fighting Sioux bobblehead.
Much more recently, I pulled my bobblehead collection out of its storage box. (Mike was not in there; he had a prized place on my dresser.) Patrick, as previously noted, is fascinated by my bobbleheads. I was going to try to sell them for a profit on ebay, but a quick search showed that ... nobody else wants them either. So I let Patrick abuse them. He likes the baseball players, but he is totally fascinated by Mike, "who has orange hair."
Me: Patrick, do you know who else has orange hair?
Patrick: Um. ... No?
Me: Does Daddy have orange hair?
Patrick: No!
Me: Does Patrick have orange hair?
Patrick: No! Me: What color is your hair?
Patrick: Black!
For Christmas, I gave James three tickets to a Hurricanes game. I got tickets for a family night in March. March 3, to be exact, vs. Tampa Bay. (I have some weird connection to Tampa Bay ... dating back to my interview with the Astros.) Now, of course I told James that he didn't have to, you know, take me and Patrick, he could go with his buddies or whatever. He said not to be silly, of course he was going with us. Then I discovered the Dook-Carolina game was March 3 at 7 p.m. I told James that REALLY it was okay if he wanted to go with his buddies. He said no.
THEN. Mike Commodore was traded to Tampa Bay. I was entirely too excited. We told Patrick we were going to see the real Mike at the hockey game. He asked if it was the basketball game with the loud horn (he was traumatized by the wine-and-cheese fans in Chapel Hill ... not a good sign). We assured him it was not the basketball game. I hoped maybe the Hurricanes wouldn't score much. When we got ready to go and put our jerseys on, Patrick asked if this meant he could go play on the ice with Mike. Even though we told him no, he was still super excited.

We got inside and looked at the John Deere tractors on display, and watched the John Deere zamboni, and rode the escalator, and Patrick kept saying, over and over, "Can I see the real Mike?" We got to our seats, in the top row of the arena, just before the national anthem.
"Where's the real Mike"?

The game started, and luckily, Mike was playing. Patrick was excited, but yet disappointed because he couldn't see Mike's orange hair under his helmet.
AND THEN THE HURRICANES SCORED. The goal horn went off. Patrick's face crumpled.
"I wanna go hooooooooooome," he cried. He calmed down a bit after we took a quick trip to see the tractor again and rode the escalators. James got some food. It was dollar dog night, so that's what we had.
Patrick kept eyeing the nachos the guy next to us had.

We managed to make it through the first period, and part of the second. Then Patrick said, "Mommy? Can we go home now? These people are too loud."
We took this picture, and then left.

On the way out, the Hurricanes scored twice more. But then they lost so I didn't feel too bad.
When we got home, Patrick said, "Can I watch a video of Mike on your computer? Where I can see his orange hair?" So for the last week, Patrick and I have been watching Mike Commodore fights on YouTube. I have to admit, it's pretty fun. :)