Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaiders Part 2 (the PG version)

Oh sure, you'll read my blog as long as I don't talk about HIM. I know the comments on my blog are meager, but I can always hear the crickets chirping whenenver I write about my main man. Hmph.

So, here is the long awaited (this is me trying to be funny, honey) conclusion to my previous Raider post http://eyesheartmind.blogspot.com/2008/01/raaaaaaaaaaaaaaiders-part-1.html

The tailgate bar:

Here I am (middle) with bro and sister in law at my first Raider tailgate party.

Post Tailgate Party:

Once Joe and I were in the proper frame of mind, and we could hear the roar of the crowd and the banging of what sounded like drums in the stadium, we decided it was time to enter the belly of the beast.

My bro. had given us special, expensive tickets. Tickets for the "Club" section. Only people who paid $153 per ticket could get onto this level. Waiting in line? Nope. Mere mortals wait in line. We swished our way in with only a perfunctory body pat down by security.

Joe was getting pretty excited, as the Charger are his life-long team. He really wanted to see the game. I, on the other hand, really wanted to see the people. The game was fine, mind you. And you could see a lot from where we sat. But frankly, I didn't catch most of it because it all happens so fast in realtime. Somehow I understand football better on TV.

In terms of seeing a pro football game, the two most exciting things for me were:

1.) Getting to see a guy whose name is actually LaDanian in person. (his wife's name is La Torsha!) Most Sundays I go around the house chanting La Daaaanian. I just love that name. I told Richard he should name his first born La Daaaanian. It's a fun name to say, plus it really annoys Richard now.

2.) Feeling the energy of the masses. I felt the passion, delirium, ecstasy of the more than 60,000 Raider fanatics, all focused on the same thing. The place was pulsating. It reminded me of Grateful Dead concerts, except instead of focusing on music and love and stuff, we were focusing on the Raaaaaaiders. Being in the midst of that, I couldn't help but yell and scream when everyone else did. It was wild. I felt like I had been transported back in time and was in a Roman coliseum witnessing gladiator fights. (that thought made me a bit sad)

All the other tall blonde ladies forgot to come to the game that day. When I walked around and checked out all the people, I was the ONLY one. There were a few nice looking ladies, but not many. Therefore, my ego got a big boost because 99% of the men ogled me. I don't say this to brag. Seriously, I NEVER get attention from men anymore. I don't want it and I don't expect it. But when it happened at the game, it was kind of funny.

One time I was waiting outside the bathroom for Joe. The bar was close by. Some obviously drunk guy came up to me, grabbed my arm saying,

"You want to be in our picture?" as he dragged me over to his group of friends.

My pithy comeback was,

"Huh? What? Uh......I....uh...."

Cheese! Flash! I am in the picture.

Next I'm being introduced to all his friends. Then (like it was in a movie) a big black guy turns to me and puts his fists of be-ringed fingers in my face. Everyone around grew hushed. Somethng was clearly expected of me.

"Oh! You have rings! Superbowl rings? Oh.....so...tell me about your rings!" I'm pretty sure was what I said. But it is hard to remember because throughout the whole conversation I was laughing hysterically on the inside at this feeble attempt by an aging pro football player to wow me . Obviously, I missed the class in Americana 101 that teaches girls about being impressed and attracted to guys with superbowl rings on their fingers.

I don't remember much of the conversation. Only that about some unknowable amount of minutes later Joe was at my elbow with a tight grin on his face.

"Oh! This is my husband Joe." Predictably, things peetered off after this and we went back to our seats.

"I hope your ego is enjoying this," Joe said to me as we walked back. Ego? My whole self was enjoying it.

At half time we walked out of the club area trying to find my bro. As we walked into the masses of people on our way to find the stairs, we noticed that everyone was smoking. Soon we noticed that no one was smoking tobacco. The place was lit up! The smell was pungent and strong. Ahaaaa....so THAT's how it is......

We never did make it down to visit the "commoners". We just called them on our cell phone and then regally waved down to them.

Being at a Raider game was like visiting an exotic foreign country. Observing the customs, the language, the behavior of the people was fascinating. It is one huge rager of a party.I highly recommend it to any anthropologist. So does one super friendly man who appeared in my face (seemingly out of nowhere) during the tailgate party and said,

"You could get a PhD watching people here."

"What? In Anthropology? or Sociology?" I asked, hoping against hope I said the right thing.

"No, a PhD in people watching!"

He was right.