It's All Happenin' At The Game
We have season tickets to the Husker games. Last year we had season tickets to the Husker games but I inconveniently became ill and ended up too sick to even go to one. T ended up selling them to her cousin.
This year, T applied for tickets in the "assisted mobility" section. This means that everyone sitting in this section should either need a cane or a walker or other assistive device.
I was so excited to go. I felt ready to DO SOMETHING NORMAL. By normal, I mean do something that takes a bit of stamina. This would involve a LOT of walking since while we were able to get assisted mobility seats, we were unable to get handicapped parking. It is very limited at the stadium. We settled with T dropping me off as close as she could and then parking on her own: a fifteen minute walk from the stadium.
We arrived on one of those days in September that make you love Nebraska. A cool breeze, an azure sky, temps in the 70's. Ideal football weather. T dropped me off and I waited for her, sitting on some steps, people watching.
Cornhusker fans are a very friendly breed. Gregarious. Everyone smiling. Every now and then someone would start a cheer and everyone else would jovially join in.
GO BIG RED!!! GO BIG RED!!!
There has been much written about Cornhusker fans. Why we are so loyal even though we haven't really been contenders for a national championship for decades. I think it is because of this. The crowd. The joining of a group of people who support a team. Nebraska has no extraordinary mountainary, no ocean. It is basically flat prairie land. It is beautiful to us, those who were born here. But, we don't have a booming tourist market. Boys Town is probably as good as it gets for Nebraska. So, we have the Cornhuskers and we are proud.
I had experienced a bad previous night, waking up twice in pain, badly nauseated. Laid awake wondering how I was going to walk around Memorial Stadium or worse.....what if I had to throw up and didn't make it to the restroom? But, none of that came to pass. I wasn't feeling great, but the nausea had passed during the early morning hours.
T found me and we walked slowly to the entrance, everyone sweetly making way for me. One man even gently offered his arm for a bit. We found our seats easily. Incredible seats down near the field. We were in the middle of the row, which I didn't like much, but hey....you can't have everything. We noted a Grandpa and his grandson next to T. In front of us was a lovely couple, the woman had a leg brace on.
And then....THEY showed up. First, two large twenty something men who sat next to the couple in front of us. There was clearly only one seat available but they took up two.There was clearly not enough room to sit, so they stood. For the entire game. And then two equally large twenty somethings sat next to me. Or I should say, stood. They STOOD next to me. For the entire game. I am not capable of standing for an entire game. Nor were most of the people in our section. As I looked around, I saw that, in our section, the only four people constantly standing were next to me and directly to the left of me. I was boxed in and could not see the field. Even if I had stood, these men had at least a foot on me.
So, I sat and watched the jumbotron. Which seemed ironic. I would have had a much clearer picture sitting home on my sofa. The men standing in front of us were annoying and clearly not in the "assisted mobility" way. But, the men standing next to me were worse. The man directly next to me, kept leaping into the air to hoot and scream and came stomping down on my foot more than once. He also had a maddening tendency to brush his elbow against my head...or even more maddening....keep his elbow about an inch away from head, so I had to hold it at an unnatural angle, worried that he would elbow me. These guys clearly were the beneficiaries of tickets from some older uncle or grandfather. The elbower's friend seemed to have some sort of homosexual fixation. When the opposing team came on the field, he yelled out, "OOOOO LAAAA LAAA! Here come the Avon Ladies! Prance on out, girls!" Over and over again, he screamed about the opposing team's ability to run like "fillies" and "Oh, did you get your widdle leggy scratched? Did you break a little fingernail?"Or, he would groan at a mistake made by our team and screech out, "Stop playing like you're cheerleaders. Act like men, damn it!"
I doubt that he was old enough to have children and I sincerely hope that if he ever procreates, he grows up a bit first.
Finally, I reached my breaking point. At the next jab of the guy's elbow. I stood up, grabbed his elbow and screamed (it was far too loud for him to hear me talking), "If you hit me in the head with your FUCKING elbow again, I will take my cane and knock you in the back of the knee. Am I clear?" He looked down at me in distaste but didn't answer. He did tuck his elbow to his side, though and kept it there.
It was not the most fun game that I have ever been to and we lost. In the last minute. So, stung.
On the way home, T and I agreed that she would call and try to exchange our tickets for ones in the wheelchair section. I have a wheelchair; I DETEST using it. But, maybe I could suck it up for the games. Otherwise, we may give our tickets to relatives.
At any rate, I guess I have to say that the game was a pretty good success. I was able to navigate and didn't tire too much.
Okay. Truthfully? I was in bed by 7 that night. But, still......watching those Cornhuskers come out of that tunnel? Priceless.
A gift. I'll take it.
This year, T applied for tickets in the "assisted mobility" section. This means that everyone sitting in this section should either need a cane or a walker or other assistive device.
I was so excited to go. I felt ready to DO SOMETHING NORMAL. By normal, I mean do something that takes a bit of stamina. This would involve a LOT of walking since while we were able to get assisted mobility seats, we were unable to get handicapped parking. It is very limited at the stadium. We settled with T dropping me off as close as she could and then parking on her own: a fifteen minute walk from the stadium.
We arrived on one of those days in September that make you love Nebraska. A cool breeze, an azure sky, temps in the 70's. Ideal football weather. T dropped me off and I waited for her, sitting on some steps, people watching.
Cornhusker fans are a very friendly breed. Gregarious. Everyone smiling. Every now and then someone would start a cheer and everyone else would jovially join in.
GO BIG RED!!! GO BIG RED!!!
There has been much written about Cornhusker fans. Why we are so loyal even though we haven't really been contenders for a national championship for decades. I think it is because of this. The crowd. The joining of a group of people who support a team. Nebraska has no extraordinary mountainary, no ocean. It is basically flat prairie land. It is beautiful to us, those who were born here. But, we don't have a booming tourist market. Boys Town is probably as good as it gets for Nebraska. So, we have the Cornhuskers and we are proud.
I had experienced a bad previous night, waking up twice in pain, badly nauseated. Laid awake wondering how I was going to walk around Memorial Stadium or worse.....what if I had to throw up and didn't make it to the restroom? But, none of that came to pass. I wasn't feeling great, but the nausea had passed during the early morning hours.
T found me and we walked slowly to the entrance, everyone sweetly making way for me. One man even gently offered his arm for a bit. We found our seats easily. Incredible seats down near the field. We were in the middle of the row, which I didn't like much, but hey....you can't have everything. We noted a Grandpa and his grandson next to T. In front of us was a lovely couple, the woman had a leg brace on.
And then....THEY showed up. First, two large twenty something men who sat next to the couple in front of us. There was clearly only one seat available but they took up two.There was clearly not enough room to sit, so they stood. For the entire game. And then two equally large twenty somethings sat next to me. Or I should say, stood. They STOOD next to me. For the entire game. I am not capable of standing for an entire game. Nor were most of the people in our section. As I looked around, I saw that, in our section, the only four people constantly standing were next to me and directly to the left of me. I was boxed in and could not see the field. Even if I had stood, these men had at least a foot on me.
So, I sat and watched the jumbotron. Which seemed ironic. I would have had a much clearer picture sitting home on my sofa. The men standing in front of us were annoying and clearly not in the "assisted mobility" way. But, the men standing next to me were worse. The man directly next to me, kept leaping into the air to hoot and scream and came stomping down on my foot more than once. He also had a maddening tendency to brush his elbow against my head...or even more maddening....keep his elbow about an inch away from head, so I had to hold it at an unnatural angle, worried that he would elbow me. These guys clearly were the beneficiaries of tickets from some older uncle or grandfather. The elbower's friend seemed to have some sort of homosexual fixation. When the opposing team came on the field, he yelled out, "OOOOO LAAAA LAAA! Here come the Avon Ladies! Prance on out, girls!" Over and over again, he screamed about the opposing team's ability to run like "fillies" and "Oh, did you get your widdle leggy scratched? Did you break a little fingernail?"Or, he would groan at a mistake made by our team and screech out, "Stop playing like you're cheerleaders. Act like men, damn it!"
I doubt that he was old enough to have children and I sincerely hope that if he ever procreates, he grows up a bit first.
Finally, I reached my breaking point. At the next jab of the guy's elbow. I stood up, grabbed his elbow and screamed (it was far too loud for him to hear me talking), "If you hit me in the head with your FUCKING elbow again, I will take my cane and knock you in the back of the knee. Am I clear?" He looked down at me in distaste but didn't answer. He did tuck his elbow to his side, though and kept it there.
It was not the most fun game that I have ever been to and we lost. In the last minute. So, stung.
On the way home, T and I agreed that she would call and try to exchange our tickets for ones in the wheelchair section. I have a wheelchair; I DETEST using it. But, maybe I could suck it up for the games. Otherwise, we may give our tickets to relatives.
At any rate, I guess I have to say that the game was a pretty good success. I was able to navigate and didn't tire too much.
Okay. Truthfully? I was in bed by 7 that night. But, still......watching those Cornhuskers come out of that tunnel? Priceless.
A gift. I'll take it.
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