Los Angeles Kings vs. Colorado Avalanche

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One o'clock on a Sunday in March is the best-kept secret on the entire calendar. The building is bright and loud and finished by half past three, the freeways have not yet filled with people going home from the beach, and the rest of the day afterwards is enormous and completely unplanned. Colorado is a serious opponent, one of the handful of clubs that turns an ordinary afternoon into a proper test, and by March a game against them has consequences attached whether or not anybody announces it. Afternoon crowds skew younger and considerably more vocal, partly because nobody has spent four hours in a bar first. Bring somebody who thinks hockey is incomprehensible and sit them close to the glass for the first period. The speed is the entire argument, and it is the one thing that is impossible to convey until a body hits the boards six feet from your face.