My brother Jerry, Mark, and I attended a Bismarck Bobcats hockey game on Saturday.

The fighting was splendid (three separate fisticuffs!), and was possibly brought to you by Dvorak Motors. Each Bobcat player had the name of a Bismarck business emblazoned across his rear, and it was then that I became aware of the excessive advertising and sponsorship that was bombarding me.

“There are some businesses that shouldn’t advertise on someone’s butt,” I said to Mark. “For example, ABC Seamless.”

He snickered.

“I don’t think I’d want to skate around with Sam’s Club on my ass, either,” I said. “And, for the record, I don’t think having Burger King written across your buns provides the right incentive to purchase food.”

“Comfort World is also questionable,” he joked.

Lining the rink were the customary advertisements that I fully expected to see. A few were even hockey-appropriate, such as an ad for a local orthodontist and a chiropractor. All that was missing was a brain surgeon. The ads didn’t stop there; boundaries didn’t abound, and everything was up for sale.

The ads on the player’s uniforms and the constant stream of advertising through sponsored penalties, pucks, and whatever else they could adhere a few bucks to threw me off. The advertiser on the player’s uniform was read off before the player! This lead to some interesting and long-winded announcements.

“That was a Dvorak Motors penalty on Sam’s Club number four Rendle…”

We looked at each other and snickered.

“…CBS-12 icing…”

Good grief. Half the game was over before the announcer could spit out the actual penalty. If there was a real-life AdBlock, the entire game would have consisted of the Bobcat mascot Scratch wandering around aimlessly in the nacho-covered bleachers.

“Hey fans…” the announcer began again, announcing again that Tesoro was the official gas station of tonight’s game.

“Hey fans, absolutely everything is advertising space at a Bobcat hockey game!”

I bet the pause for the announcer to take a breath was sponsored by someone.

There was one sign on the wall, however, that surprised me. “Advertise Here!” it said, with a phone number below it. I couldn’t believe it; premium wall space had gone unmolested while the buttocks of the players were festooned with capitalism.

Go Bobcats.