On Saturday, I attended my very first live NHL game. And everything changed.

Colors are sharper now. My favorite foods and drinks taste better. Sweet sounds that were once distant now sing softly in my ear. I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. This is the night I became a true hockey fan.

It all began innocuously a few weeks ago when I decided, mostly just as a fun experiment, to try to jump into a game I knew almost nothing about but it quickly became clear that Colorado Avalanche fans were going to make sure I stayed around for the long haul.

Watching the first couple of weeks on TV, it was easy to start to learn specific players and have everyone from our beat writers here at DNVR to countless new friends on Twitter enhance the experience tenfold. During this time, an obvious consensus emerged that this whole thing wasn’t real until I attended my first game in person.

I’ve heard for years that there is “nothing like watching hockey live” just as much as I have that there is “nothing like” watching playoff hockey.

Probably because the other sports aren’t on skates, I would crudely think to myself. But, of course, that is not what you all were trying to tell me. As I dove deeper and deeper into each consecutive game, it became clear what the blistering pace, non-stop flow, and crowd atmosphere might do to take the game to the next level.

Then came the perfect timing. Almost.

It’s always more wonderful when you can share big moments in life with loved ones and Thanksgiving brought my mother to town. We made plans ahead of time to attend a Wednesday contest with the Edmonton Oilers coming to the Mile High City but mother nature had other plans.

The whole ordeal was almost canceled but, ironically, a second snow storm made it more sensible for mom to stay an extra day which meant we could try to get to the Pepsi Center for a Saturday night match-up against the Chicago Blackhawks.

The serendipity extended a level further when this change in the schedule also meant that my longtime girlfriend, Caitlin, could join us as well.

So we donned our DNVR shirts and set out on a journey we would never forget:

On our way to the hockey! pic.twitter.com/qi32Oppuhm

— Drew Eayn Creasman (@DrewCreasman) November 30, 2019

We headed out early in hopes of finding some last-minute ticket deals and a pre-Avalanche… Avalanche.

Of course, only one of those things happened as we quickly discovered the insane similarities between the hockey team from Chicago and the baseball one that often sweeps in and takes over at 20th and Blake.

Still, the Breck was flowing, the adrenaline was rising, and the hour was approaching.

We secured some seats in the upper level, barely in the building, behind one of the goals and proceeded to cross the street to find out just what we were in for.

I must admit, though, that I was concerned.

Sports karma tells me that after we missed a great comeback win over the Oilers, and after the Avs had blown out Chicago less than 24 hours earlier in their house, we were in for an uphill battle.

Settling into our row, I was shocked by how well we could see the rink from what were considered some of the worst seats in the house. The ice was shinier and more reflective than I was expecting. It just looks white on TV.

The pre-game festivities were right up my ally, especially the comic-book themed intro, one last bit of hype to raise my heart rate in peak anticipation.

Then, suddenly, it started.

I don’t even remember the puck drop. I was still taking in all the sights and sounds and when I looked back down to the rink, the action was live.

It was a scary start. After all that preamble, the Blackhawks stole a short-handed goal just a few minutes into the game and I’ll admit that my heart sunk into my stomach a bit.

It did give me the opportunity to flex just how smart about hockey I’ve become in the past few weeks by explaining how Power Plays work and why it was (in theory) a really bad sign that the game began this way.

I went on to observe that the team looked exhausted on the back-to-back, were slow in getting to the puck, and were getting beat in the aggression game. It could end up being a long night that we remember more for the memories of before and after the game than what actually took place on the ice.

What an idiot.

The Avs came back from the first break in the action and Bruce Banner was gone. The Hulk had arrived.

Nazem Kadri, off a beautiful pass from Nathan MacKinnon, leapfrogged over the competition to become my second-favorite player (come back soon, Bura) and win his way into my heart forever with the first home goal of my hockey fandom:

My first goooooaaaaaalllll! Kadri ties it at 1-1! pic.twitter.com/2xKnbs95nC

— Drew Eayn Creasman (@DrewCreasman) December 1, 2019

It was all a surreal explosion of pure joy from there.

For the next 10 minutes, we were out of our chairs more than we were in them, screaming at the top of our lungs and looking around at everyone in our section who all had the same “is this real life?” look on their faces.

The Avs poured in a few more goals, killed off a 5-on-3 power play, saw Mikko being Mikko again in his return, and even had Sam Girard get into a fight!

Maybe the craziest thing for all of us was watching the line changes that seemed so constant and seamless that it felt more like watching Cirque Du Soleil than the brutish sport it is known for being. Though, we were treated to a few big hits as well.

It was the perfect game for three new fans because the Avalanche put on a clinic, teaching us just exactly how to dominate at the highest level.

When you’re up 6-1 in the second period of your first ever NHL game: pic.twitter.com/bOB6faQ4u0

— Drew Eayn Creasman (@DrewCreasman) December 1, 2019

Colorado went up 7-1 and cruised to a 7-3 victory as the visitors poured in a couple of adorable late goals.

We watched the red jerseys file out of the stadium early, got way too excited for the Mario sound effects and organ music and playing Baba O’Reilly entering the third period. We sang our hearts out to “All The Small Things” and the crowd carrying it on their own gave us 90s kids goosebumps. This was probably Caity’s favorite part of the night.

We later learned that this is a new tradition and so have adopted it as our own and demand that it continue.

We marveled at the speed and agility of MacKinnon, Girard, and Mikko, erupted for the goals by Kadri and Joonas Donskoi.

We watched in awe, just like everyone else, each and every time Cale Makar had the puck on his stick.

And we knew, despite all that we don’t know, that we were watching a special team in a special season.

You don’t win Stanley Cups in November. That Saturday night meant little in the grand scheme of the 2019-20 NHL season.

But for the first time in years, I sat a sporting even, beer in hand, and cheered my lungs out with people I love. And we all fell in love with something new and wonderful.

It was a night we will never forget, playing it over and over again in our minds just to feel it all again.

It was the night I became a true hockey fan.

Post game celebration pic.twitter.com/6HLyQrAnih

— Drew Eayn Creasman (@DrewCreasman) December 1, 2019