Postcard from New York City - sport

As well as doing a suicide dog, another tick box experience was to go an see a Rangers game while in New York. Ice hockey always looks so dangerous and glamorous and what could be better than seeing a local team in action. The reality was that by eight o clock in the evening I was knackered and so was flopping on the bed with barely enough strength to flick the remote, never mind scream encouragement or abuse at ice skaters while using the word 'puck' as often as possible because I like the way it feels in my mouth. The Rangers game was actually televised and maybe it was the jet lag but the reality of an ice hockey game is: loads of blokes in body armour, zooming about randomly chasing a puck that is too quick and too small to be seen, while the goal is defended by a bloke with shin pads so huge that when he brings them together, they form a perfect seal over the goal. With no real sport to be had it is no wonder that the players seem to spend most of the match attempting to beat up on one another. This in itself is pretty comical as they all have huge mittens on and are all wearing more body armour than a medieval knight. Still, it's the thought that counts.

The actual Rangers fans I saw outside Madison Square Gardens ahead of the game though, looked like the real deal. These guys were wearing their replica Rangers shirts which fitted them snugly despite them not wearing any body armour at all. They were the size of trucks and looked like they had real jobs, the sort that result in nicknames. Jobs like punching the cows to death in the slaughterhouse when the humane killer is out of order, so earning themselves nicknames like 'The Bolt'.