The Arena

My first visit to The Wachovia Center arena was one of the greatest moments of my life. So many people surrounded me as we walked into the gymnasium. It was like I was a small needle in a hay stack. The people in the round gymnasium all formed a crimson, white, and blue rainbow. Everyone's shirts meshed together like a woven shirt with different colors of strings. The sounds of the crowd anticipating a hard fought battle between the two teams were like a stampede of elephants. The smell of the concession stand foods made me feel like a starving child. I could basically taste the nachos as a guy walked by me with a basket full of them.

Then the man on a loud intercom basically yelled for the players to come out of their locker rooms because it was time to start the game. The roar of the people surrounding me was like being right behind the jet of an airplane. I sucked it up and stood out of my lightly cushioned seat and began to clap along with the crowd. My hands were sticky because right before I had stood up, I touched someone's chewed gun on the side of my chair. As I looked down towards the basketball court, I noticed that the players had began to run out to warm up. Their brightly colored uniforms stood out in the glare of the spotlights above. The court was real shiny as if it had just been waxed like a new car.

Later on a load roar stopped the game signaling that it was the beginning of halftime. The intercom began playing a song and the crowd stating swinging their arms back and forth to the song being played. The mass of people that was moving looked like a field of wild flower blowing in a light breeze. A lady rubbed up against me as she tried to move down the aisle. As I walked through the aisles to the concession stand, I began to realize that the concession stand was more hectic then the gymnasium itself. Kids were crying as their parents shoved them back to their seats. The opposing team is losing so the home fans waved their favorite players jersey in the air, mocking the opposing team's fans causing a riot of drunken men by the bathroom. The over priced nachos that I had smelled earlier forces me to settle for a slice of pizza instead. On my way back to my seat, my moth still had the pasty, saucy taste of the slice