VIP Jazz Tickets

I’m gonna be honest here..I had, quite possibly, the best night of my entire life. It probably doesn’t take the place of my engagement/ wedding nights, becoming a mother for the first time, the moment I met Sean Astin (kidding, sort of)…but it was right up there, people.

Last night my dreamy husband got us Row 1 tickets to the Jazz game, compliments of Trapnell Orthodontists.  The evening commenced with VIP dining in the underground part of the Melta Center. I could hardly contain myself…I mean who actually gets to do this sort of thing?

Dinner consisted of chicken marsala, rice, vegetables, clam chowder, salad, fruits, rolls, and chocolate caramel cake. The food was mediocre, but I saw an old professor I once had a crush on, so all in all, a lovely time.

Next, we got to our seats. Like I said, we were Row 1, but there’s actually Rows A, B, and C in front of us (reserved for wives and other E.V.I.P.’s (extra very important people).

Would you like to see our tickets?

Let’s zoom in on just one of those:

Yep, I felt like a Very Important Person

The game itself was great. I have to admit, I don’t know a single player on the Jazz anymore. After seeing them up close and personal for a couple of hours (ahem), I will say that I know them a little better. For example:

This guy:

Hayward. Don’t like him. Doesn’t share the ball all that much, and always goes for the shot. Couldn’t make a single basket if his life depended on it. And somehow, they play him all the time.

And this guy (left):

Earl Watson. Love him. Short, fast little guy that carries the whole team on his back. Wouldn’t have won the game without him.

So, anyway, at half-time we got to go back to the VIP room for refreshments like nachos, popcorn, cheesecake, chocolate coconut bars, and drinks.

Love me some nachos!

And here’s Dave walking through the tunnel to get back to the game (or to get a closer look at the Jazz girls?)

In the end, the Jazz won. A serious miracle, if you ask me. The first half was pretty pathetic, but in the end they pulled it together, making for a very exciting second half.

But the story doesn’t end there, folks. So here we are leaving the game, walking on the game floor (and being told to stay on the blue part only;) Right after taking these photos, I zipped my little camera into my coat pocket because what more was there to capture, right?

Wrong. Just as we entered the tunnel, guess who came cruising along in a little golf cart? None other than President Monson, himself. I tried hard to refrain from screaming. Really I did. But, as Dave put it, I screamed at him “like he was Jon Bon Jovi.” I probably did. I have a tendency to do that.  But it was just the cherry on top of my ice cream sundae.

Such a memory I will never forget!