I’ve had some bizarre cases of mistaken identity over the years, but never one involving the player on a team jersey. Until Labor Day weekend, that is. Growing up, Labor Day was a Really Bad Day; it was the terminator between light of summer and the impending darkness of school, marching band practices, and the end of baseball season. Once I became an official Hockey Person ™, however, Labor Day took on a wonderful significance: it marked the point at which it was safe to think about hockey, to wear your favorite player t-shirt in public, to await the coming of cold winter nights filled with shouts of “Cover the slot, you pylon!” This year, I celebrated Labor Day in my second favorite Devils t-shirt, emblazed with logo in the front and 26/Elias on the back. I’m a half-sized billboard for the Prudential Center.
The scene: I’m checking out of our beachside hotel, and the man in line behind me notices my Elias t-shirt with the comment “You don’t see many Keith Elias jerseys.” I had seen him earlier in the week orbiting the pool in some appropriate Princeton garb, but it still took me a few seconds to put together Keith Elias, Princeton football, and the differently pronounced Czech name on my back. After a bit of pleasant chat, I learned that he preceded me at Old Nassau by a few years, was a fan of Elias (football), knew Keith’s stats like Elias (sports bureau) and didn’t register Elias (hockey, despite the colors representing the Devils, rather than the Tigers, Colts, Giants or Hitmen). It’s nice to get recognized, even if it’s a case of mistaken sportswear identity.
