The Cold War

Well, I went on another trip to watch soccer, and boy is there a lot to tell.  Like why I am wearing this unicorn hat, for example.  Everything in its due time...

This time I didn't go with my normal traveling companion, but I didn't go alone either. I was accompanied by my long-suffering girlfriend Stephanie.  The game was a World Cup qualifier, the opponent was Costa Rica, and the location was Commerce City, Colorado, a suburb of Denver. The game has become somewhat of a legendary game, mainly because of the conditions it was played in.

Snow. And lots of it. I'll drop pictures throughout the description

We showed up to the airport on Friday morning.  The idea was to get there early enough so that we didn't miss a moment of standing around, waiting to board. The first wrinkle of the trip was about to present itself.  The lady operating the ticket counter announced that the flight was overbooked and that anyone who wanted a 200 dollar voucher and that could take a flight a few hours later should come and speak with her.

I think most people typically ignore these announcements, having places to go and schedules to meet.  We, however, were almost totally unconstrained by time and instantly volunteered. The feeling in my stomach as I made my way up to the counter must have been similar to the one Bilbo Baggins felt when he took his first step on his journey "there and back again" into the unknown.  I'm sure the people in the terminal could see the dollar signs in our eyes.  Unfortunately, they found enough seats and we were on the plane before we knew it. So much for adventure and treasures. I’ve heard it said that you can't lose money you never had, but it sure felt that way as we took off from sunny Phoenix.

Landing in Denver provided us with the trip's second wrinkle-a rude weather awakening.  It was much colder than we had expected!  It wasn't so much the temperature number that was unexpected.  Any bozo can check out a weather report.  It was the wind that really did the damage and it was also not forecast. Even waiting outside for a few minutes for the hotel shuttle made me worry that maybe I had underpacked in the "warm clothing" department. More on that later.....

The trip's third wrinkle? The hotel didn't have record of my reservations. After a bit of inquiry, it was determined that the website used to book the rooms also allowed the hotel to overbook their rooms. It was all technological Greek to me. The lady at the front desk, after making it clear she was annoyed with us, found our reservations under Stephanie's name.  We couldn't figure out why she was so annoyed; all we did was have the audacity to try to rent two of her evidently VERY in-demand rooms from the prestigious Days Inn.

After lunch, we were on our way to the game on public transportation. Trying to figure out public transportation in a new city takes a lot of preparation and a little faith that you've researched everything you need to.  Our trip involved a lot of waiting outside. In the cold.  This is pretty much what I felt like the whole 2 hour trip to the stadium.

Freezing Bus Stop

  Right before we got to Commerce City, some Costa Rica fans got on the same bus we were on, and they had fewer warm clothes than we did. As it turns out, they were from Phoenix too. Small world.

We almost got on the wrong bus a few times, but with the two of us (and a few helpful bus drivers) we managed to sort everything out and we showed up at the stadium about two hours before kickoff.

On arrival in Commerce City, we had about a mile's walk to the Stadium in the wind and snow, which was piercing and unpleasant snow, rather than soft and fluffy snow.  Waiting for the gates to open, we shivered and did everything possible to stay warm.  I wondered in those moments of standing outside the gates if all my Scout leaders would be embarrassed if they could have seen me in those moments. They always preach the virtues of "being prepared" but I was wearing the following:

-Underwear layer

-Thermal Shirt

-USA Jersey

-(Water Absorbing) USA Jacket

-Jeans

-Insulated Ski Pants over top of the jeans

-Long socks and shoes

-Scarf and beanie

Not Pictures:Any of the warm clothes I brough

Layers, some specific snow stuff, etc-that is textbook, Boy Scout cold-weather preparation. What more could I have done? It's not like I can bring every coat with me I've ever owned! Anyway, Stephanie managed to bring a North Face jacket but was torn about bringing it to the game. She ended up wearing it and was so grateful she did.  On the day, the former Boy Scout was less prepared than the girl. I tip my hat to her.

They eventually opened the gates and as we walked in, the stewards gave us all a free scarf (which is sort of a staple of the soccer fan).  I already had one of my own, but was happy to take the free offering, thinking it might provide some more warmth.

Free scarves!

The field looked as follows as we waited about 90 minutes for the game to actually start in our section, directly behind a goal.

The snow falling from the sky mirrored the pattern of the crowd reaching their seats: it got much denser as kickoff approached.  The wind continued to whip the falling snow into our faces.  The second scarf proved useful for wrapping around the mouth and face to protect from the snow.

As our section filled in with the die hards I like to sit with, I need to describe some of these characters.  I've seen some bizarre people at these games

THIS time, I witnessed a first.  A man came into our section, right next to Stephanie and I, carrying an accordion. He got a hero's welcome and he started to play some tunes.  Most of them were songs taunting the Costa Rican players and I can't very well repeat the lyrics because this is a family blog.  We'll just say they were to the Mexican tune "Cielito Lindo" (Ayyyyy-yi-yi-yi) and used both Spanish and English to get the point across.  These fans are characters, but they're fun and creative.  We didn't get a picture with accordion man and he was moving to another section before we knew it. However, I managed to find a picture someone else took of the guy.

By this time, the snow was really starting to accumulate and the grounds crew came out to try to salvage the playing surface so that the game could actually take place. They pulled out all the stops-men with shovels, John Deere's with plows attached to the end, etc.  These are what the scenes looked like close to kickoff.

The fans started getting noisier as the snow got thicker, and the game hadn't even started yet!

By the time the game kicked off, I think everyone had waited long enough.  The Yanks were under some pressure to win this game, they had lost their first game in World Cup qualifying in disappointing fashion and there were some reports of discontent in the USA camp.  USA wore white jerseys with navy blue shorts.  Costa Rica wore red and blue jerseys with blue shorts.  USA was defending the goal closest to us in the first half. 

 

USA had the better of the opening play and created a few good chances, neither of which ended up in the net, until the 16th minute.  USA forward Jozy Altidore took a shot that deflected off a defender, right into the path of Clint Dempsey, who easily put it past the goalkeeper

Can't miss

I think the early goal lifted some of the pressure off the guys a little bit and the crowd felt a little more comfortable. A few more pictures of the celebration are below. 

 

In the stands, we all went nuts when we finally figured out that the ball had gone in.  The combination of wind in our face, snow, and looking across the field made it hard to see that it indeed had gone in, but our celebrations were not lacking in enthusiasm. I think it was Stephanie's first instance celebrating a real goal that mattered. We jumped up and down, high fived people, I hugged a couple people around me into a huddle. There's just nothing like your team scoring an important goal.  For just a few moments, I forgot about the advancing numbness in my extremities and took in the moment.

Halftime eventually came and the snow was coming down full blast.  Stephanie went off to the bathroom to use the hot water at the sinks to warm up while I held down the seats. The groundskeepers came out with their shovels and John Deere tractors again to clear off the accumulated and compacted snow.  I finally realized snow had been accumulating on me as well! Scarf, beanie, jacket, shoes, etc.  

 When Stephanie came back, I took my turn, except, on the way to the bathroom, several people passed me holding what appeared to be hot chocolate. In an instant, the destination had changed. "WHERE IS THIS HOT CHOCOLATE? HOW CAN I GET THIS WARMNESS INSIDE ME?!"

This sentiment went against my firm belief in the 11th commandment-Thou shalt not purchase food at sporting events.  This struck me as an ox in the mire situation; momentarily, I was on my way back to the seats with two hot chocolates, trying not to slip.

It's HARD to hold cups of hot liquid when your hands are numb from cold. It almost warms them too much, too quickly.  We both quickly gulped it down and waited for the second half to start and the snow continued to fall, thick and sticky.

Not much happened in the second half.  The referees stopped the game for a little while and it looked like they'd cancel the game due to thick snow.  The fans started loud chants of "Let them play" "Orange Ball" (which would allow the players to better see the ball).  We all sang "Let it Snow.” I was told that it could be heard on the TV broadcast.

The fans started throwing snowballs onto the field toward the end of the game, aiming for the Costa Rican goalie. The police started gathering at our section and trying to find the perpetrators, to no avail. Turns out it is hard to identify people when everyone has dark beanies and scarves on.  At this point in the game, the Costa Ricans started to look worn down a bit by the conditions, as evidenced below.

 

By this point, the game had pretty much died out and the US held on for a 1-0 win. We celebrated wildly and the players came over to applaud the fans. Believe me, we deserved it. Clint Dempsey gathered snow with his hands and threw a few snowballs into the crowd. Terrence Boyd came and showed his appreciation. It’s my favorite part of the games.

After the game, we took a little time in the bathrooms to warm up and went on our way. The snow and cold had beaten me down to the point that I was prepared to pay for a cab, until we saw the line for cabs. Stephanie convinced me that we should try out the bus route back to the hotel that I had mapped out.  It involved a walk of over a mile, during which we snapped these shots.

Surprisingly, the walk warmed us up quite a bit. After a few minutes of agonizing waiting, the bus showed up and we gratefully hopped on. The bus took us to the airport, where we then hopped on a shuttle that dropped us off right at the hotel.  We stumbled our way to the Village Inn across the street, ate, and collapsed into our rooms. I surfed the net for a little while, where I found some incredible images, like the “Sno Fro,” pictured below.

It didn’t take long for my eyes to drift shut. What a night.

The next day, we got a bit of a late start. I caught the tail end of the free breakfast (mediocre), and just let my body relax a bit more.  Once we were both ready for the day, we decided to just head up to the airport for our evening flight at noon.  The airport was BOMBED with people because flights were delayed/cancelled left and right.  We parked ourselves and just sat around, napping when we could, window shopping at the various stores, getting something to eat when we had to, etc. The browsing was fun, it’s where I got to try on the hilarious unicorn hat I was wearing in the first picture.

Finally, our time had come to go home. I noticed, with horror, that our flight was Flight 93.  I formulated a rule in my head that if flight numbers that experience tragic situations (United 93, TWA Flight 800, etc) should be retired permanently. We boarded the plane, got home, and somehow recovered.

Anyone want to do it again??

Don't Mess with Texas

 The amount of vacation time that I can take at any given moment depends on what time of year it is. Now is the time of year when I can take one day from time to time. My friend, Tim, informed me that on a Tuesday in the middle of January, he was going to be in San Antonio for a conference. He also pointed out that the USA were playing against Canada in a neighboring Texas town that very night and that I should buy a ticket and go see the game.

The "neighboring Texas town"?  Houston.  I ultimately agreed and Tim and I were set to attend our 8th US game together.  I would buy a plane ticket, Tim would rent a car and we'd drive to Houston that night to watch the game. After the game, we'd drive back to San Antonio, sleep in the airport and catch our flights home.

Tuesday morning I woke up at 6 AM and drove to the airport for my morning flight, which went off without a hitch.  After arriving in San Antonio, I was to sit and wait to hear from Tim once he got the rental car.  He ultimately called me and the conversation went as follows.

T-"So, they wouldn't give me the car."
S-"Why not?"
T-"Apparently, I didn't bring a CREDIT card, and they won't take my debit card.  So if we want to go to Houston, you'll have to rent one."
S- (Long Silence) "I'll get on it."

What other choice did I have?  Fortunately I brought a credit card and before long I was in a Ford Focus, heading to pick Tim up by the Alamo.  We stopped and had a quick look at the Alamo, which was much smaller than I anticipated.  Before long, we were on the 3 hour journey to Houston.

The drive there was filled with fun smalltalk and banter.  Before we knew it, we pulled up to BBVA compass stadium in Houston, home of the Houston Dynamo.  The Dynamo's colors are orange and, well, more orange as you can see by pictures of the stadium.

 

 

We went inside, got in the front row of the General Admission section, which was right behind a goal, and waited for the game to start.  Little did we know, that this would be the high point of the night, because the game was awful.  Canada didn't want to attack, and the US weren't good enough to attack effectively.  The game ended 0-0 and rain started to pour down.  We sprinted back to the rental car, trying to avoid getting our devices wet.

One interesting thing about this game was how the supporters were treated by stadium staff.  The people I watch games with when I go are die hards, they like to stand up, they even like to take American flag bandanas and tie them over their mouths to live up to their moniker, The American Outlaws.  The stadium had three stewards whose jobs were to just look into our little section from the ground.  I had seen security occasionally pass by our sections in other games I attended, but this was the first time I felt like we were being policed.  They were constantly telling people to take off bandanas, coming into the crowd and making themselves known.  There was nothing going on needing such a response.  I later remembered that the Houston Dynamo (the team that owns the stadium) fans had a history of misbehavior (throwing smoke bombs, other unruly stuff) and maybe that was why the stadium operators felt that we would engage in the same behaviors.  Of course, we didn't, and honestly it made me reluctant to go back to that stadium again, if that's how the fans are treated there.

After a quick detour to Denny's, we left to go back to San Antonio to catch our flights the next morning.  We arrived at the car rental place at about 330 and, to our surprise, they were closed!! Our understanding was they were open 24 hours.  We couldn't return the car or get back to the airport until 430.  So we slept in the car for an hour or so until they opened.

 

I hopped on my flight at 6 AM and headed home.  My car, which I left at the airport had a clean pair of work clothes that I changed into and I headed to work for about the most unproductive work day ever.

Of kits and kilts-USA-Scotland

I haven't updated this in a while. Maybe because I haven't taken any trips for a while.  That changed this past weekend.  I went to Jacksonville, FL to see the US national team take on Scotland.

This was an exciting prospect for my friend and I.  It was the first game in the US for some time and we expected it would be a good game, with plenty of support for both teams.  We'll get to that....

I got no sleep the night before my early flight, so I started pretty grouchy and low.  A quick touchdown in Atlanta was the only stop before I landed in Florida, where I met up with my friend from Boston (we'll just call him Tim).

We caught a bus to the stadium, but not before stopping at a Mexican restaurant.  At the bar, were several Scotland fans, wearing kilts.  Some young, some old, all drinking.  A few of them looked over at us, and as my eyes met theirs, a few raised their shot glasses as a toast.  I raised my water back across the restaurant and decided to go chat with them.

Kilt wearer-"So how's it going to end, mate?"
Me-"Let's say 2-1 USA!"
Kilt wearer-"2-1??? YOU"RE DREAMIN!!"

Someone was dreaming in that conversation.  Who exactly it was, will come up later...

We made our way to the stadium, snapping a few pics along the way.  It was quite a beautiful day.

I look really bloated.  Must be all the salt from the Mexican place.  Water retention.  Right?  Anyone?

You'll notice I was wearing what appears to be a shirt that Waldo from Where's Waldo would wear.  It's the new kit the US men wear, and it was going to be unveiled tonight.  Nothing quite like conformity among fans...

You'll also notice we snagged the front row.  We paid to get in the supporters section, which is general admission.  Get there early, and get the seat you want.  As things started warming up, I saw the local newspaper snapping pictures of us.  Here are a few.

As gametime got closer, things really filled in.  Lots of fans, 80% of them were American.  The national anthem happened, and, from what I was told, it was awful.  I really get annoyed when singers try to change the timing of the song.  The fans want to sing along and we can't do it if we don't know the timing.  Then we all look like a bunch of morons.  The good part though is that 1)I couldn't hear her and 2)I grabbed some more television time, as they focused on my group right at the end.  Please don't watch the whole video, unless you want to see a terrible anthem.  Click on 1:32 to see our moment of glory.

The game started.

Come on you Waldos!!

This is what the section looked like when it all filled in.  Pretty strong support.

The USA grabbed a quick goal in the 3rd minute.  Beer went flying.  We NEVER score this early.  Then, before we knew it, Michael Bradley (probably my favorite Yank) scorched a volley from distance into the top corner.  We erupted again.  Beer flew again.  Then one of our players put it into our own net and the half ended 2-1.  The Yanks had controlled the game and were unlucky not to be up by more.

Then the second half started.  We grabbed another goal.  Then another.  Then another.  We couldn't believe what we were seeing.  This is the USA playing, not the Dutch!  The game ended 5-1 and we were in paradise.  Here's some highlights if you're interested.

We staggered to the exit to catch the cab that we had booked for only 32 american dollars.  As they tried to find us, apparently there was a whole mess of people trying to hail a cab.  Fortunately, our drivers had integrity and honored the appointment.  They were great.  They picked us up, and took us to the airport.

We were hungry, ordered a pizza, and had it delivered to the airport.

Delicious local pizza from a place known as Pizza Hut...

We hoped to show that we had learned from our Kansas City debacle about how to properly sleep in an airport.  The worst part, without question, is the cold.  THEY KEEP THOSE AIRPORTS FREEZING!  So really, my only luggage this trip was a blanket.    This was the best choice I ever made.  Tim and I snagged some spare carpet slabs and dragged them over to a darker corner of the airport where we made our beds.  This was about 1:30 AM.

Getting set up for bed.....briefly

All snuggled in....briefly

I actually drifted off rather quickly, only to be awakened at about 2:30.  An airport employee woke us up, told us we needed to move, and that's where my memory stops.  I can't remember why we needed to move, but we stumbled and bumbled our way further into the terminal where there were padded benches right outside where the TSA scans your junk.

No hospitality like airport hospitality

 We settled into these benches and slept half decently until about 530 or so, when people started showing up.  We even saw a few Scotland fans in their kilts walking through.  My eyes met theirs on a few occasions; once, one said to me "Don't say anything" in their charming accent.  I smiled and retorted that all I wanted to say was "Good morning."  They were good sports.

Once the TSA opened, we stepped forward for our naked scan and patdown.  No problem.  I half enjoyed it.

I boarded my flight, slightly concerned about the smell emanating from me.  I have good hygiene, but this trip didn't allow me to be overly concerned about it.  I was concerned that I'd be mistaken for a boozing deadbeat that hadn't showered in a week.  Fortunately, I was sat next to someone with incredible BO, so I'm sure my smell was masked.

A few hours later, I was back home, where I rushed to shower, change my clothes, and head to church in time for Elders quorum.

Another end to a great trip supporting the Yanks.