Word: fleetly
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Before Christina Rosenberger, my fellow WWF reporter, and I leave for the Fleet Center, my editor pulls me aside. "I swear she's gonna get jumped," he warns. Yeah--I think--she doesn't know what she's getting herself in to. Suddenly, I feel a little cockier about this venture. Satisfied with my newly appointed role as The Protector, I sense some of my Harvardfeebleness melting away. I'm ready for some SmackDown...
Tickets in hand, Christina and I battle through the hordes of WWF fans who are waiting in the lobby of the Fleet Center. I stop for a minute to examine my ticket. We're seated in the FIRST ROW?! Ring side seats! This is getting better every minute. My excitement's cut short by an impatient gray-haired woman in a WWFshirt, who tells me to get my ass moving. I obediently pick up the pace. _Ok, now I know Harvard's sissified me--some little old lady is pushing me around...
Christina and I shuffle out of the Fleet center. My pulse has slowed, and my head is achy. I hobble toward the exit, saddened that it's over. Well, at least I had a couple of hours to enjoy these consummate men, who, to an unknowing person, are simply bullies, pimps, assholes, and animals. Now, it's back to Harvard, where I must deny that I respect these men, lest I be thought "insensitive...
...John Rocker's views and, worse, that Rocker was absolutely right in what he said. Naturally, the run-to-mommy prisses were heard from: "Ooo, ooo, Johnny Rocker said a bad word, and I'm gonna tell!" Numerous messages said Rocker deserved to be keelhauled and flogged around the fleet...
...while we were a little snake bitten, but to get my first hat trick at the Fleet Center is a huge thing," Baker said. "I've been watching the Beanpot since I was a kid, but the big thing is that it helped get us into the finals...