Fresh Legs and a Fresh Man - the story of Gropey McJazz-Hands

I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you to a man Donovan and I have cleverly - and appropriately - dubbed Gropey McJazz-Hands.

Gropey is a man that I had the (mis?)fortune of sitting beside at the newly-named Scotiabank Centre (the arena formerly known as the Corel Centre) for the Ottawa Senators game on Monday night.

Now Gropey started off a quiet, simple man, joining us in the 300 section of the arena just after the first period started, taking the empty seat on my right. He was your typical Senators fan - donning his Sens jacket and matching cap with pride. His elderly charm became apparent, and was enjoyed immensely by Donovan and myself, whenever our home team made a good play: instead of clapping, he would raise his arms up in a perfect 90-degree angle perpendicular to his body, and give the Sens an approving display of jazz hands while shouting words like "Fabulous!", "Wonderful!", and "Absolutely splendid!"

As the first period came to an end, Donovan and I stood up and prepared to leave our seats for a few minutes, and Gropey decided to stand up and leave his seat, too. But he didn't leave before (and this is how he got his name) putting his hand on my side and sliding it down to my hip for an extended, and completely unnecessary, amount of time.

"Donovan, that old man is groping me," I whispered in Donovan's ear, as I urged him along the line of people to get me out of Gropey's engrossing grasp. "What the? I'm gonna say something!" Donovan chivalrously replied. "No, it's ok, let's just go," I begged.

So we left our seats, and Gropey went his seperate way.

We didn't see him again until the start of the 3rd period.

This time, the sweet and once-charming old Gropey we first came to know and love was no longer...this time, Gropey had turned into a drunken and completely obnoxious "fan", who reeked of booze and whose jazz-hands could now be likened to out of control grand mal seizures! His arms no longer stayed at the once-familiar 90-degree angle - oh no, they were straight up in the air, and everytime he waived his jazz-hands, he screamed like a maniac.

"YEEEAAAHHHH!!!!! HOORAY!!!"

Those jazz-hands were just a-going!

Then something happened - Donovan and I aren't sure what was going on on the ice - but Gropey decided to lean over me, his hand on my thigh, as he slurred to Donovan above the noise of the crowds around us, "They took it back! Did you see that? They must have gone upstairs and complained!"

"Yeah, I guess so, " Donovan replied, admitting to me that he had no idea what Gropey was talking about. He spied Gropey's hand on my leg, and again begged me to let him say something, or at least switch seats with him, but I declined, citing the end of the game was near as my reason for staying put.

And that's when "Fresh Legs" comes into play....Gropey was very pleased with himself, that, despite his gross intoxication, he was still able to commentate the game from his seat to the people around him (namely Donovan and I).

"See that? They're playing smart....they put those fresh legs out on the ice now, that's some smart playing. Those fresh legs are smart. Look at those smart, fresh legs go!"

FRESH LEGS!!!!

So cut to the end of the game - the Sens are in the lead 4-3 with a few seconds to spare. 3...2...1...the buzzer sounds, and excitement fills the arena as Sens fans harmoniously jump to their feet and cheer! Donovan and I leap out of our seats and high five each other - then Gropey leans in and high fives Donovan (and we're talking the double high-five here, both hands...too bad Gropey was too drunk to hit either of Donovan's hands!). So I turn to Gropey (he's standing right there, looking at me...I have to do something....)....awkward pause....the world seems to slow down and almost come to a complete stop. But you know what, I say to myself, this is a hockey game, and here's just a drunk fan having fun, and we had fun laughing at him.

I laugh and open my arms to embrace him - hey, why not, good times were had by all and our team won - and that's when the grope of all gropes happened.

He grabbed my boob and pretty much hung on for a few seconds.

Too much in shock - and afraid of the fight that would ensue if I told Donovan - I just moved away and pushed Donovan out through the throngs of people, as far away from Gropey as we could get!

And that was the last we saw of Gropey!

Despite the multiple showers I took that night, I had a pretty good time, thanks to Gropey - not for his gropiness, but rather for the jazz-hands aspect of it all.

Thanks for the mammaries....uhhh, MEMORIES, Gropey McJazz-Hands!