Staying Dry on Game Day

Staying Dry on Game Day

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Staying Dry on Game Day

I wandered aimlessly through the bowels of the structure trying to uncover an unsuspecting vendor selling some protection from the rain. The only thing I discovered was one small booth with nothing to sell. As I approached, several other people followed my lead. I walked up and asked where I could find a poncho to beat the relentless elements outside. The bearded hippo rose up from his resting state and sharply answered my question telling me that a box would be arriving here at any time. Resisting the temptation to depress my partially thawed fist into his crumb laden, burly face, I calmly waited in line with others. As I waited for a supposed shipment, the sweet odor of fresh baked bread drifted past my nose. I had no idea where they were coming from until I turned around and saw a man in a burgundy apron removing hot dogs buns from three bags and placing the buns in the display window of his booth. While the thought of a nice warm, processed meat tube seemed oddly inviting, my focus moved toward something else. Standing there, still dripping from the rain outside, I was beginning to grow impatient about the ponchos. At that moment, a newly defrosted neuron fired. My intuition went in to full gear. I thought if I couldn’t buy something to protect myself from the rain, I would just make one myself. Diving at the trash can, I drove my hand down into the dark abyss of the stationary canister. My hand searched for the right texture of what I desired. After rummaging through what felt like an empty pop can and some napkins, my hands flew out of the trash can to reveal to my eyes the fruit of my labor. I was now the new facilitator of three, freshly discarded hot dog bun bags. With the loot in hand, I made a mad dash for a quiet area in the corridor. Like a robber trying to mask their identity, I proceeded to punch the bottoms out of two bags. The other bag I sat aside for the moment. I took the two mutilated pieces of plastic and pulled them over my boots and up on my thighs which were mostly dry by now.

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With both legs covered, I took the other bag and placed it on my head. My new outfit was complete.

Looking like something out of a psychotic Ralph Lauren ad, I proudly strutted my new wardrobe as I made my way back to the seat. As I sat in my seat, many curious eyes examined me. My parents burst out in laughter along with a few other people. At the moment, I didn’t care about anything except the fact that I was dry. As I focused once again on the game, I began to notice that bags weren’t doing their job. While they kept me dry from the falling precipitation, they lacked any sort of insulation. The future did not look bright.

The game was nearing half-time and the team was down by 14. I, along with my family, decided we had seen enough of the game to feel satisfied. When the bright, digital clock directly below the white, equestrian giant read zero, I rose from my seat and quickly made my way back into warmth of the interior corridor. The noise from the crowd seemed subdued, whether it was from the weather or the score. Either way, it was bearable to leave your ears uncovered without getting a migraine. My eyes were taking in all the possible sights as I approached the exit.

While the game had been rather depressing, the weather made up for any shortcomings in the excitement category. As I walked toward the car a mass of cold, wet molecules, I looked back one last time at the stadium. The lights were still shining brightly through the falling rain. The sound of the announcer could definitely be made out above the continuous patter of raindrops on the pavement. Sitting down in the car, I realized that I was still wearing my plastic hat and chaps. Shedding my plastic cowboy apparel, I fell back on the seat and watched the raindrops silently whisk past my face on the window as the car left the parking lot. My dad drove the car up past the front of stadium so we could get one last close look. I tilted my eyes to my right and gazed out upon the horrible conditions outside. I noticed that lights now made the copper stampede to glow a cool, soft blue. With the water still frozen at their feet, the cast stallions waited for the sun of another day when they would regain their lustrous shine and stand proud welcoming new fans to yet another goliath battle.
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