Heat and Hooters

I figured sooner or later I'd have to see the Miami Heat and when the Boston Celtics came to town I had the perfect chance.

So the roommate - who being a UConn fan can root for Ray Allen - and I drove to American Airlines Arena in Miami on Wednesday night. The directions the website gave me sucked, but luckily, I was familiar with the area.

We paid a hefty sum to park at the arena and started walking around. Not five minutes later, we walked to the Bayside area and found a parking lot that was half the price. Cue the "wah-wah-wahhhhh" sound. Live and learn.

From there, I embarked on my first trip to a Hooters. Yeah, it had to happen sometime. The food was not what I'd call fine cuisine. Apparently, and this shocked me, all the waitresses were heavily made up girls with very, very short shorts. On that night, it happened to be 50 degrees in Florida, which is "freezing" for these sissies. This meant a profligate amount of sweatshirts on the waitresses.

No hooters in Hooters. It's like going to Disney World only to find your favorite ride happens to be closed.

There were plenty of Celtics hats and Pierce jerseys at Hooters and even more in the arena. I'd say a good 25 percent. Unsurprisingly, the Heat fans were dead from the start. I enjoyed the introductions for their players with the dancers in ties and instruments, like the big drums in that Drumline movie.

Before many of the fans took their seats, the Celtics were up 8-2. It would only get better. Eddie House started draining every shot he took in the second quarter and Ray Allen had his shot working as well. Even Brian Scalabrine played some tough defense on Michael Beasley. Anytime the Heat strung a few points together and the crowd grew louder, the Celtics would hit a big jumper to quiet everyone down. The Heat never trailed by less than double-digits from the middle of the first quarter.

This also accounted for my first Dwyane Wade experience and I wasn't too impressed. He walked around the court (when he didn't have the ball) like he was constipated. He might be still feeling the effects of last year's injury, but it struck me how old he looked and he's still in his 20's. Shawn Marion also sucked, blowing a wide-open dunk and then sitting the rest of the game. And I never got the chance to boo Mark Blount. I still hate his guts after all these years.

Fortunately, I spotted a big photo of Mark Blount in a Men in Black pose while I exited and gave it the finger. Steve 1, Blount 0.

The only annoying part? And this goes to all the NBA games I've seen, but the constant sound drives me insane. Any time the Heat had the ball on offense the speakers blared "Clap-clap clap your hands!" No one did. Is it too much to watch the game in peace, at least a few parts? Am I puppy that needs to be trained?

Nonetheless, I had a good time watching the Celtics win and avoiding traffic afterward. I just have one question. I guess it's rhetorical. Here it is: Am I too old to eat cotton candy? Is there an age limit? I hope not because I love me some cotton candy.