It pays to follow your instincts. I didn't know why I felt I should wear a suit, but I did. It didn't even make sense, considering what I had planned. After the Hawaiian Dance, I was going to see the Razorsharks. I'm not sure what someone is "supposed" to wear to a basketball game, but I'm pretty sure it's not a suit.

A very informative arena employee named Terry led me to my courtside seat. We both agreed it will always be called the War Memorial to us. He also pointed out key people to me and patiently answered my newbie questions. ("Is there always an ambulance parked outside during a game?" Yes, in case of emergency. FYI, it looked like they were having pizza delivered to them as I was walking in.)

I hadn't been to a basketball game since high school, so the whole experience was new to me. They've changed a bit. I remember the slap-slam of the ball on the court, the squeak and squeal of sneakers, and the grunts and heavy breathing of the players. Now there's music. I don't remember having ever heard music during a game, except from maybe the school band or the cheerleaders during halftime. (Is there a halftime in basketball?) But Nelly Furtado was blasting while the ball was bouncing. And there was a large cube hanging from the ceiling with four giant-sized TV screens to watch the game right in front of you. The Mr. Screen also instructed us when to stomp-stomp-clap, to scream LOUDER, to kiss our dates, and to smile ‘cos we're on Jaws Cam!

When I arrived during the third period, the Razorsharks were down 50-65. I learned that time is not a constant in basketball -- 12 minutes equals one half-hour, give or take. I learned that you could watch clips from "Hoosiers" when the action is low. I learned about mop-boys. That basketball players run fast, and the teams move from one side of the court to the other like a migrating herd. They drink Powerade. Drinks are served in the Shark Pen. A shark-shaped stuffed head is FINley, the mascot.

I don't do well with sports. I always seem to side with the underdog, lacking home team loyalty. But just like I watched one season of "American Idol" with my editor -- just to have the shared experience -- I may do a season of Razorsharks. After all, when I arrived, they started winning, winning their first home game 115-108. (Maybe I'm their lucky charm.) I don't think you have to like basketball or know anything about the game to enjoy the experience. Even the owner, Sev Hrywnak, admitted to me that he's never even played the game. And ladies, the stands are filled with men!

After the game, there was a Meet & Greet & Autograph line. Hands were shook, posters were sharpie-d, and compliments were gushed. I was invited to join the peeps at 2 Vine (that's why I wore a suit!), where Rochester's elite showed their support for the Razorsharks by having a grand ol' time, celebrating their win. Rumor has it the players hit Sports Page Restaurant & Bar on Monroe.