LAS VEGAS — To those who thought ice hockey couldn’t work in the Nevada desert, you should see Las Vegas Boulevard.

The oversize L.C.D. screens are flashing Golden Knights chants. Inside the Bellagio casino, a life-size chocolate sculpture of goalie Marc-Andre Fleury defends the counter of a patisserie. In front of the New York-New York replica skyline, the Statue of Liberty currently wears a 600-pound, 28-foot-long Golden Knights sweater.

Las Vegas has embraced hockey, and with our stereotypical, extravagant flair. Our pregame shows feature surreal, Cirque du Soleil-style choreography. Elvises and Blue Man Group performers can be spotted rooting in our stands. Between periods, a futuristic-looking drum line, illuminated by LED gloves and goggles, thunders away on flashing, neon-yellow snares.

We are Vegas, after all — we know our brand better than anyone.

But beyond the loud crowds of the T-Mobile Arena, Golden Knights fever has permeated Las Vegas in less ostentatious ways. A year ago, an average weeknight at my local bar was just a smoky room full of strangers playing video poker machines and quietly watching sporting events from around the country. Now on Golden Knights game nights, that same bar is rowdy and boisterous and packed with neighbors in gray and gold jerseys. Yes, they still gamble and smoke, but when center William Karlsson lights it up with a sensational goal or the Knights need support, they swap high-fives, erupt in guttural cheers of “Go, Knights, go!” or both.