Where Are The Brakes?

Because around here I can't get the "Fun" to stop.

So after the ridiculous Friday and Saturday, this morning was going to be nothing but relaxing and taking it easy. A long day of watching football on TV, and doing approximately NOTHING.
Of course nothing happens as it's originally planned. I got a phone call from one of our major suppliers at 11AM asking what I was up to today. I hesitantly said: "Nothing."

Their reply: "Wrong answer, you're coming to the Seahawks game with us today."

"OK, I'll meet you in 15 minutes," was the obligatory reply.

The Seahawks are the hardest ticket in town to get, and nobody in their right mind says no to a game. It just isn't done. Even if you don't like Football, there is so much to do at the Stadium and so much fun to be had that even the biggest wallflowers turn into social butterflies. See the pictures below for an example. ;-)

Here's the view from where we parked. This is the best parking in the area, and by permit only. I would never in my life PAY what they charge to park here:

Some of the guys from our supplier picked me up, and I got a lift to the game with them. Here's BFiddle counting out the cash from his expense account for the game. Yes, those are hundreds. Yes, I think he's crazy to be counting it in the middle of the parking lot. So of course, the world can now enjoy his insanity:

This one is the rest of the guys and gals from the beer company (and some random kid). They always park next to one another and ALWAYS tailgate before games. I am so glad that I did not drive myself (like the rest of the reps coming out foolishly opted to do), because I would have missed out on the most fun part of the pregame.

Jim made the mistake of telling Kelly to "Kiss His Ass" when she asked for another beer, and standing on the cooler to stop her. That immediately led to; "Well does that get me the beer?" The problem with our suppliers is that there are no real limits, and you better back up what you say. Don't commit to something you don't plan on backing up, is the golden rule.

Kissing someone's ass does get you another beer, right away, and I'm glad that Jim's wife saw the humor in it. She's the one in front of him, "making it a threeway." This did not bother Jim at all. :-)

His wife was laughing harder than I was, and actually yelled out (with all of his co-workers and I standing right there), "I won't even do that when you ask nice. You owe that girl more than a beer." JIM TURNED BEET RED, and kinda chuckled. We were all dying after that one, and I almost cried I was laughing so hard.
He agreed that Kelly was indeed the Queen Of Commitment, and she no longer had to walk anywhere.

So I tried to get all of the guys (and gals) together for a photo. It turns out that Kelly is determined to not let any of the photos turn out as something I can put on my desk at work to commemorate the first game of the season:

So I distracted her, and took another. She still didn't drop the shirt...

And another distraction. This draws the tounge out, and a point, but still no shirt shall be dropped. Not like my company has an HR department that cares, and I've seen much racier photos at work. Oh well, I'll put their names on it and throw one of them on my desk.

The seats were on separate sides of the stadium, and in the exact same spot. So we were sitting across from one another. This is the point when a couple of the guys stole my camera and began taking random photos.

Here's BFiddle, and DirtyD staring at the SeaGals our cheerleaders. They were shaking it and on the big screen. Looking at the girls this year, I can't blame them for being distracted.

The opening coin toss, as photo'd by DirtyD. He was having way to much fun with the camera.

BFiddle wanted to get in on the fun, and demanded to photo my new favorite shirt, which he had been laughing at all day. The bastard didn't even give a warning, just snapped a picture.

Of course, I had to get one photo of the three people making trouble in front of us. BFiddle, DirtyD, and Mischa (I would go with Canadian Mischa, but I'm sure she isn't the only one).

Then the obligatory photo with Mischa's husband Crazy Scott. We call him that because he's a Buccaneers fan, and had the audacity to wear the jersey to the stadium. This is a huge no-no, and he got shit all damn day because of it. I will give him credit though, it takes stones to represent a visiting team! Even with the constant threat of getting his ass kicked, he cheered for his boys (who lost anyways).

Then Mischa and BFiddle got into a disagreement about who had the better chest. Thankfully this one was kept to a PG rating, but DirtyD snapped a picture to show around and settle the debate.

Then the obligatory photo of the reps above him (again, with no warning). Note that in this shot us men look gay. The women sitting around us, and paying attention to none of it, just the beer. It's a big happy work family, we're used to seeing everyone... :-)
But hey, Jackie did her best to make it look better. Which again, is only OK due to my company's complete lack of understanding about "sexual harassment." What can a guy do but smile about that one and high five a friend? (Don't worry, that one only got to a PG-13 rating.)

Then a photo of the whole gang, note that this was not the first attempt.

This was the first attempt, which is why I am always the one taking the photos and not in them.

And then Crazy Scott, who would not sell out his team, even after they just lost their asses off, in a game that will haunt him forever. (or maybe a week or two)

In closing, even though I am a die hard Colts fan, for a day I can root for an NFC team. After one day of screaming, drinking, and screaming some more, there is one image that stands above all others.


This is the spirit of Seattle. It's a football team. One that has fans that are dreaded throughout the league. Leading the NFL in false starts in Qwest Field happens only because it is so loud that it's actually bad for your hearing. The players that go against this city's team always have one solid complaint; they can't hear on the field. It's people that make that happen. People like the ones in the photo above that get there three hours early, and are there yelling until the last second ticks off the clock. And it's not one or two dedicated groups. It's all of the fans. Every last one of them.

They may not be my team, but this city lives for it's football, and I am happy to be a little part of that. If only from time to time...