The big game

It was all supposed to be arranged. Kick-off was at 5:00, so fellow Grey-cupper (FGC) would appear at my place around 4:00, and my neighbor would drive us to the stadium.

Except that I continued to believe fervently that kick-off was at 6:00, and completely forgot that I was going to ask neighbor to drive us to the stadium.

So I had plans to cook dinner, sit and relax over hot and cold beverages, chew the fat. Fortunately neighbor was at my house drinking coffee when FGC arrived and promptly changed into her multi-layered Grey Cup outfit. I changed gears quickly and leaped into action.

What to wear?! Lots, is all I could come up with. Long underwear (top and bottom,) then long-sleeved shirt, fall jacket, winter jacket, hat, scarf, made-in-Nunavut-mittens, pants, windpants, socks, huge cushy additional pair of socks, winter boots.

The backpack was filled with:
- a thermos of coffee - since the tickets were free, who says we have to pay for really bad coffee?!
- one bottle of beer
- snacks (salty ones, and some Christmas oranges to add some nutrition)
- camera
- binoculars
- all the clothes from the above list that I couldn't stand to wear for fear of spontaneous combustion

The most important peice of luggage was the blue "camping mat" that I used to think of as a "mattress" before making the leap to thermarest. Insulation for the delicate bottoms to sit on.

We surruptitiously drank the beer before heading into the stadium (I hid it inside the blue rolled-mat. I'm sure NOBODY suspected what was inside.

The backpacks were confiscated, so many of the layers went on, and all the contraband snacks went into the pockets, along with camera, binoculars, large socks, mitts, scarf, and hat.

The lines were long, and snaking around the entire parking lot. People were seperated into male and female lines (Wait - is this a PRAIRIE football game?!) and we got frisked. I was following all the instructions as FGC had to open every zipper in her jacket and tearfully gave up her winegums. I quickly unpeeled a Christmas orange and offered some to the frisker. It must have worked; I got through with my salty snacks and another orange.

We picked up the first beverage on our way up up up the ramp to our nosebleed seats.
By that time, my two jackets were off and stuffed under the seat.

After determining which team was which, we settled in for our Grey Cup experience. This included hotdogs, mini-donuts (I passed on those; had a few too many a few years ago!) beer, bad coffee, and conversation. Oh, right, football. I think I did see one of the touch-downs, but I did get distracted by everything there was to look at, and I'll confess I didn't always know why people were cheering.

We alternated between cheering for Montreal and BC, depending on who needed the support more. We are sensitive football fans.

We ate the contraband snacks.














When it was all over, and we headed back to retrieve the confiscated backpacks, I spied this nice Saskatchewan lady eating poutine and shivering. Ah, what a great way to round out the evening, thought I. Deep fried food covered in gooey yummy fat of several varieties. She graciously allowed me to take her picture.








Now lest you suspect me of making this all up and simply doing the pictures in someone's garage, here's me in the nosebleed seats with the football field in the background.

I rounded out the evening by watching a movie in bed, sipping the contraband coffee, and polishing off the rest of the contraband "baked not fried" salty snacks.

Grey Cup

I was there.