Various fans in Seattle on Monday went through the range of emotions in the final moments of a three-hour game: the familiar nausea, the hand-wringing, and probably a little bit of the cold sweats. This, however, had nothing to do with the team one was rooting for nor was it the product of any rules misinterpretations… at least far as the play on the field.
Watching a sporting event live often includes witnessing the surreal, the awe-inspiring, and being able to come within arm’s reach of some of the most expensive commodities on the planet. There is usually some stomach churning and thrown in a bout of anxiety. Of course, I am talking about the concession stands at your local sports venue.
If there is one area where an American sports fan can truly be labeled an expert, it is the one that encompasses sitting on the posterior while watching sports. The energy levels remain low and the calorie deficits even lower. What’s more, it is one of the pleasing aspects of sports where perspiration accompanies actual weight gain.
Anyone who has ever walked into an arena has truly been exposed to the blood (medium-rare), sweat (having to hustle before those lines get long), and tears (having to take out a second mortgage to afford ballpark link sausage) of sports fandom. A longtime fixture at sporting events is the Goodyear blimp. However, another less equally appealing fixture are the low-flying zeppelins fueled by a nearly-lethal combination of the Pacific Ocean’s worth of salt, mechanically separated food stuffs, corn syrup, and whatever the illegal drug they use in Gobstoppers.
Some of my earliest memories of going to the stadium as a little tike involved the miasma of a Weingarten that time and, perhaps the Germans, forgot along with the requisite dose of garlic that would keep Nosferatu safely entombed for the rest of eternity. Throw in a roast “beef” sandwich from the Forum, a Cool-a-Coo from Dodger Stadium, and an infarction from the Coliseum, and you have the makings of a true Murderer’s Row.