The Suite Life

The other night I got drunk and bought a courtside ticket to the Nets/Hawks. I figured the Nets only come to town once and this would be my New Years. The following morning I woke up to a text from my friend and LolaSportsTalk webmaster Spencer, telling me that he had an extra ticket to the Hawks home opener versus the Wizards. Better yet, it was in the suite section. He asked me if I wanted to go and I said “yes” faster than Isiah Thomas says it to a bad trade.

This is the first piece in a 2 part expose on the highlife at Philips Arena.

As you can see, the ticket wasn’t cheap, it was actually more face value than my court side seats for the next game. Where are people’s priorities?

Here is Spencer’s suite, an upscale hotel room at nosebleed latitude.

Looking to bid on an autographed Zaza plaque or one signed by a backup that no longer plays for the team? You’re in luck.

How about a picture of Larry Bird, the guy who outdueled our greatest player and knocked us out of the playoffs? What about Lebron James, the most hated guy in basketball (more than Kris Himphries). Come on, bid on it, it commemorates his rookie of the year award.

The pasta station in the club section, surprisingly not dissimilar from the pasta station from your college cafeteria. Another similarity would be that they are both housed in places that cost you tens of thousands of dollars a year to attend (college and the Hawks club level).

Spencer and I left the comfy confines of the club section to go get one of the best meals in sports, the savory crepes. At the last game of last year I was so cool with the crepe people that they made me a ham AND steak crepe. When I reached the crepe stand’s location I was in shock as it was no longer there. A conversation with a smart ass security guard revealed that the stand no longer existed. Recent losses in my life have helped me put petty things like this into perspective, but this was still a sad moment for me.

I tried to fill the crepe sized hole in my hear with the ambitious sounding pretzel chicken BLT. Of course the bread was not pretzel-ish, at all, the chicken breast was dryer than a Ben Stein monologue and would it have killed them to warm up the bread or cheese? This is the kind of food you get when the vendors no that you can’t go anywhere for food (other examples: airplanes, jails).

For the holidays the Hawks had Jerry Stackhouse address the crowd. Great choice because he has only been here a few weeks, has been on 4 teams since 2009 and once did this to a fellow human being.

So close yet so far. I would have covered this, you know, if the World wasn’t sexist.

I try to get at least one good photo of Josh Smith making some kind of frowny face at every Hawks game I go to.

Hawks fans are in mid season form. Seriously Atlanta, don’t be too excited for your opening day or anything. I wonder if they like basketball in Winnipeg……

The newest Hawk, Tracy McGrady, I would be so excited if this was a decade ago. The Hawks free agent haul this year was McGrady, 37 year old Jerry Stackhouse and one of the Collins twins (doesn’t matter which).

At the suite bar on level C I bought a Hennessy and coke with a Budweiser on the side (classy right?) and commandeered the exclusive Heineken Lounge. It’s like a Heineken themed nightclub that happens to have a view of the basketball game. Tonight, due to the bad economy and one of the most indifferent fan bases in sports, it was mine, mine, mine.

“Hi, you may not know be but I’m the Hawks coach. I really am! Well happy holidays anyway.”

At the end of the kiss cam it is customary to put two males on the camera together (I mean it IS Atlanta, right?). The guys usually cover their faces, or in JR Smith’s case, run to half court (Really happened at a game last year), but Shaq simply grabbed the man next to him and started licking his bald head. That’s so Shaq.

I make it a point to get at least one photo of a celebrity per game, so at halftime I usually hang around the club level like the crazed sports paparazzi I am until I see someone. Today’s quota filler was “The Jet” (the real one, not you, Jason Terry) Kenny Smith. I asked him if I could take a picture “of him” and he thought I said “with him”. I didn’t mind the miscommunication. He seemed really down to earth and I totally spaced on telling him how much I loved those old Rockets teams.

I also saw Atlanta Falcons cornerback Brent Grimes. “I wish you could come to the Jets” I said. He laughed, not knowing that I would really trade Antonio Cromartie, Kyle Wilson and one of my kidneys to have him be the Jets number 2 corner.

Spencer got the wings from the Buckhead Diner (not to be confused with the Bankhead Diner which is located in the nosebleeds) earlier in the night and they were crispy and spicy, just how I like them. I ordered my own batch later and this time they were soggy and luke warm. Sigh.

More Hennessy, coke and Budweiser please. Last call at the suites bar is the end of the game, in the non superballer sections its the end of the third quarter. The 1% get extra 25% to drink at the game.

If you ever wondered what big corporations did with all that money they saved outsourcing your job, here is the answer. Pretzel rods and some cheese for $33 is palatable so long as you simply put it on some corporate credit card. What percent of $19 baskets of popcorn do you think end up written off as business expenses, 110%?

Beer on the other hand here is a steal. $23 for a six pack (of 12 oz cans, 72oz overall) seems steep until you realize it is the same price as 2.5 16 oz beers in the main concourse (40 oz overall). There is value to be had on the suites menu.

The bottle service was a bargain too, way cheaper than at a nightclub/stripclub.

I suppose there was a game going on too, but if we were really into that I wouldn’t be up in the sky box in the first place. The Hawks thrashed the visiting Wizards, which was a shame because I had bet the Wizards +365 and +8.5 on multiple tickets. Serves me right for going against the home team.

As I was leaving, I began to unscrew the Heineken arm on the tap to bring home as a souvenier, so at some point I could have it in my own bar and tell people “well you know that actually is the tap arm from the Heineken Lounge in Philips Arena”. I then thought about how I was there with Spencer’s job and I wouldn’t want it getting back to them and getting him in trouble, so I left it.

Thus concluded my experience in the suites at Philips Arena. It wasn’t my first time in a suite, it’s a lifestyle more focused on flaunting wealth than it is about watching basketball, an amalgamation between opulent nightlife and basketball. Even a sports purist like myself is not immune to the allure of these posh, beer filled sanctuaries in the sky and I hope to be back in one soon.

Look for part 2, Life on the Floor coming monday.

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Posted by lolasportstalk on Dec 31 2011. Filed under Basketball, Latest, Photos. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. You can leave a response or trackback to this entry