No complaints about the seats, which fell along the railing, front and center, of one end zone -- alas not the one where
Now, in a perfect world I'd have landed such a sweet seating assignment at a game involving the Bears (my favorite team) with a halftime by
The gods seem against me on this one. When I was a teenager, my family booked a skydiving outing in southern Florida -- sort of a side trip from our annual Disney World stay. Alas, when we arrived in the morning, the place had burned to the ground. Pretty ominous stuff, and it'll be a while before I build up the courage to try again. If ever.
I play soccer -- which is to say I try to keep up with former collegiate athletes nearly half my age -- every Friday night in Manhattan. I've been doing it for the past four years, 12 months a year. And in all of my time on the pitch I've buried my fair share of goals, but never one to win a game. In Year One, when my upstart team was particularly miserable, I netted a last-second goal, a complete shanker to tie a much-better team. Back then we were the Senor Swanky All-Stars, named after the crappy NYU Mexican joint where we'd decided to form a squad, and we completely lost our composure, jumping up and down and hugging and acting all infantile. And then we walked away with a tie. Which kind of killed the whole moment.
From above. I'm a sports fan, not an idiot.
I've played every year since sophomore year of high school, back in 1994, when we manually transferred stats from
Of all the events I've covered, it's those involving teams close to my heart that have stuck, and the 2006 Big East tournament at Madison Square Garden stands out above the rest. Having lived in Syracuse during the