Let's go back to September 30, 2013. Not so long ago, but at the speed of life around here, it seems eons ago. That day was...magical. Like a fantasy, like I was on some sort of awesome drug that gave me a partial sunburn. Christian and I went to see our first football game in real life.
I guess the reason I haven't written about it is, honestly, I haven't figured out how to put it into words. All week I was planned, packing (read: stressing), and wondering what it would be like. the kids were going to spend the day with mom and dad and the cousins on Sunday so they were having an adventure of their own. I remarked to Christian that this was the first time I had not been pregnant or nursing for our anniversary! Yay for new chapters!
We woke up at 4:30 in the morning, rubbing the sleep out of our eyes to make way for the wonders that would behold us. After pit stops for gas, food, and picking up extra people, we were finally on our foggy way. Seriously! From the moment we set sail, all the way to KC, we drove through fog. Even after the sun came up, it had a hard time burning away this blanket. We passed over Truman Lake and you couldn't even see it! But this helped with the wonder factor. My husband will probably do a face palm but riding through the fog and emerging in Kansas City Sunday morning traffic was like...time warping through a portal into the land of Oz. It's like when you take the ship or the griffin in WOW. It was seriously science fiction stuff that I've totally messed up but that's what it was. Other worldly indeed.
From then on out I was wide eyed wondering what to expect. We made our way to Arrowhead stadium as it was struggling to rise through the fog and grill smoke of the tailgaters who had been there...since sunup? I don't know. That was the biggest parking lot I'd ever seen. You see it from the blimp on TV but you don't really believe it. The party was already in full swing. Block after block of tailgaters, as far as the eye could see. The morning was crispy cold which was totally at odds with people already busy with making lunch at 8:00 am. I was so unprepared. I felt like I needed to take notes for next time. I already knew there had to be a next time.
We unloaded, set up the grill, and set to work making our camp. We were an instant target for ridicule as our tour guide for the trip was a diehard Giants fan. I wanted everyone to know I wasn't really "with" him as far as the Giants were concerned, but then it begged the question: who was I with? And here's the other reason I haven't shared the experience. I am a fair weather fan. A prodigal fan. For years I cheered for the Chiefs, holding on through every loss, and nursing my broken heart after every game or playoff game that they almost won. But didn't. I was hurt, disillusioned. Angry that I had cared so much about a stupid game to be disappointed so many times. I couldn't take it anymore. I stopped cheering when they won, even though I was happy, because I knew they would just lose again. I didn't get my hopes up because it hurt too much.
So when I saw them start to win, I tried to keep myself occupied. They won the first game? Good for them. They could use a win. 2-0? Well, just wait. After this, it will probably just go downhill. 3-0. I'm listening. Listening to the buzz, the chatter. Still guarded, still waiting. For the other shoe to drop.
When we packed up to head to the stadium the electricity turned up a notch. The gravitational pull was unbearable and I wanted to run all the way there. The smell of grills cooling down and fans revving up spurred us on. For every heckler, there was a Giants fan willing to give my BIL a high five. Some folks, who had already had an ample supply of alcohol that morning doled out hugs of encouragement.
Once through security, which wasn't as awkward as I thought it would be, we wound our way up the staircase, wide-eyed and watching. If you're a people watcher, it's a wonderland! We found our seats and even though we were high up in a corner, I could see the game perfectly.
The anticipation built until they sang the national anthem and the fireworks went off and it was on! My phone died ten minutes into the game but it freed me to actually watch it. People yelling for beer and water. Making fun of each other's teams. Trading stats like insults. The wave! It went all the way around the stadium! And I did the Tomahawk Chop. I was so excited for every positive thing that happened for the Chiefs but I held back. Out of respect for "real fans"? Respect for my BIL? But Dexter McCluster. He sold me Running that kickoff back for a touchdown. I almost didn't stand up, expecting, like most people, that he would be tackled in due time. But there was no whistle. We all started standing...screaming...taking a breath to scream some more...and he was in the end zone! I jumped. I screamed. I lost my head. Almost lost my voice. I was sold. So sad for my BIL but sold.
I know. I should be ashamed of myself for being unfaithful for all those years. I am. I never latched onto another team. My husband is a Niners fan, so of course I want them to do well just so I don't have to live with a grump after the games...but...I was lost. I've been rooting for them. Saw the last game. Don't know what I'll do when they play the Niners. I guess the loser can sleep on the couch.
After the game I walked out on a cloud. Just being there, adding the air of celebration. People, drunk people, were running in the streets, more hugs and high fives. I had had too much Dr. Pepper and not enough sleep so there was that delirium to add to it too. The fumes of the experience followed us all the way home. We beat the kids home and I sat on the steps waiting for them, daydreaming about the day that we could take them to experience something like what we had just been through.
It was a once in a lifetime experience. I certainly hope it will happen again but life will still be great even if I only have that one adventure enshrined in my memory. Go Chiefs!
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