I took Charlie to his first NHL hockey game.

I took him straight into the lion's den - the house of the enemy - the Philadelphia Flyers. We weren't exactly feeling the "brotherly love" as we came to support the opposing team - the New Jersey Devils.

I had prepped Charlie in the car ride over.

"You know how you say Boo, Flyers! when we're at home and you see them on TV?"

"Uh huh."

"Well you can't do that when we get there. They. Will. Murder. Us."

It didn't take long for Charlie to realize that we were in the vast minority as we parked the car and stepped out into a sea of orange and black.

"Let's not bring this," Charlie said quietly, neatly folding and handing me the picture he drew that said "LET'S GO DEVILS."

Kudos to the security guard who stopped us as we entered the arena to check if I had any plastic containers in my small cooler.

"Yeah, I do, but my son's a diabetic and I ,"

"Come right in," he said, waving us on.

Sometimes I just expect that there's going to be trouble. It was just nice that he understood and didn't make me jump through hoops just to enter the building. I've heard some horror stories.

He was almost too heedless. Charlie is sometimes like a free pass.

"What's in my cooler? Well I have a harpoon, a live octopus and flaming bows and arrows. But I need them for my child. He has diabetes."

"Okie doke, come right in."

In my red, white and black Devils jersey, I was looked upon as the devil. I received some very unflattering glares from the Flyer fans as we walked up the steps trying to find our seats. One woman actually sighed loudly after we passed her.

"Phew! I thought they were going to sit next to me."

An intense-looking mustachioed Flyer fan sitting behind us "joked" (I think) that his tray with nacho cheese might end up on us. Another older woman, who was decked out in a Flyers sweater, Flyers earrings, Flyers scarf and Flyers contact lenses (kidding), was talking to us, when she suddenly stopped and let out a small but genuine gasp.

"Oh my god, I didn't see his jersey!," she reassured her husband. She looked at me as if my eyeball was hanging from its socket like a slinky.

Despite the gentle ribbing I took from the Flyers fans, I remained fearless as long as I had my boy at my side. Charlie was my shield; my protector; my *whirling buckler.

He wasn't holding my hand tightly as we walked the hostile halls of the arena between periods. It was I who grasped his. Without Charlie I would have been mincemeat. Or, uh, cheesesteak, as it were.

What were they gonna do, harass me in front of my 5-year-old? In front of my 5-year-old with DIABETES? They all saw me pricking his finger and squeezing out a drop of blood. I triple-dog dared them.

The Devils crushed the Flyers by a score of 6 to 2. One of the worst beatings the Flyers suffered this season. Amongst the herds of deflated Flyers fans hanging their heads as they exited the arena, we contained our glee as we walked quickly and calmly to the car and locked the doors.

Then we giggled uncontrollably like two little boys who had just seen their teacher's underpants.





* Whirling buckler - A small wooden shield worn strapped to your forearm used in the game of Dungeons & Dragons.