Opening Day Is Better Than Closing Day—Time to Celebrate

The beginning of the best time of the year is always better than the end of it. It's time to start acting like it.

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Listen, we need to talk. And not about how you double dip your chicken wings in the ranch. Though, we should talk about that at some point because no one wants the gunk from behind your molars in the communal ranch. It’s one dunk per wing, bro. What I want to talk to you about today is much more serious than wing etiquette. I need you to get on board Team Opening Day.

I know you love to ski. And I know that you love ski season and that you’re psyched it’s about to start. And I get that no one is really anti-opening day. But no one goes as nutso for opening day as they do for closing day, but they should. In fact, we should go much more nutso. Like, the most nutso-est. Where are all the opening day on-mountain parties, the neon onesies and skintight weird costumes, the Pit Vipers and mullets?

Where are all the opening day après dance parties with hordes of still-in-their-boots ski bums? How about some opening day resort-sponsored pond skims, some giveaways, and gear shop deals? Where are all the lose-your-mind shenanigans and the google-on-goggle makeout sessions? There’s none of that on opening day. Nobody is being awesomely weird; nobody is making out. Everybody just boots up silently, shuffles in the lift line, maybe lets out a half-hearted “wooo” when the first chair of the season scoops them up, skis one groomer, and goes home. That shit has got to stop.

The beginning of something is always better than the end. Period. No one in the history of anything has said something like, “Oh wow, I’m so glad that I’ve finished my bacon. It’s awesome that there’s no more bacon left. I’m so happy our bacon time is over.” It doesn’t happen. Ski season is the bacon and the first bite is opening day. We’ve got months of delicious bacon to enjoy ahead of us and we should celebrate the tasty goodness of opening day!

Closing day is a junk show; amateur hour to the max. It’s like New Year’s Eve and St. Paddy’s Day had a baby, clicked it into a pair of straight skis from 1987, and pushed it down the hill. It’s the most dangerous, frightening day at ski resorts everywhere. I attended my niece’s 5th birthday party and somebody left the confectioners sugar out and all the kids got into it. That day was easier to deal with and less terrifying than skiing through the asteroid field of neon inebriated wigglers on closing day.

I’m not saying we need to stop or abandon closing day festivities. But please realize that we are glorifying the end of the best time of year, ski season, and celebrating the beginning of stupid hot sweaty summer. I just think we need to put the focus on the best day of any and every winter—the very first day of ski season.