The first game I ever attended at Dolphins' stadium was a joyous experience. I was about 13. I was 'dropped off' by an uninterested parent (that's right, the bastard wouldn't even attend a game with me, choosing instead to meet me at a pre-determined spot 3 hours later). I went on a spinnie thing (gyro-something) that made me want to throw up. I had a beer (don't ask), which also made me want to throw up. Then, half drunk, I walked into the stadium, and promptly spent my entire life savings on a program and a foam finger.
I managed somehow to find my seat, despite having to walk six miles upwards to get there. I settled in, and viewed the magnificence that was the football pitch. it was a beautiful thing. They didn't have baseball there back then. They even used to and probably still do have all the monster truck rallies indoors at Miami Arena. This land was football exclusive land.
I watched some of my heroes come running out onto the field and saw the big screens and heard the fanfare. Then I noticed something horrible. Very VERY horrible.
I was SURROUNDED by THEM. Buffalo fans. They were everywhere. All ages, mostly middle aged or older but there were teens, 20-somethings, etc. And they ALL noticed me. Sitting all alone...wagging my Dolphin's Number One foam finger. In my other hand was an over-priced glossy program. I didn't even have a beer in my cup holder.
And so it was that for the next 3 hours, I was bullied, ridiculed, spat at, and had various objects thrown at my head. I even made teary-eye contact with the usher in my section, speaking with my eyes to please DO something. She looked at me like I deserved it.
The Dolphins lost 41-27 that day. I lost my dignity. But I did get to see Marino, Duper, Clayton, Higgs, Oliver, Cox, JB Brown, Stoyanovich and some guy named Klingbeil. I was even able to locate my father for the post-game drive home, listening to Rachmaninoff, chewing some old gum trying to cover up the smell of the beer I'd had 3 hours earlier. It was easy enough as it was obvious my father had downed a few himself at a nearby watering hole during the game.
I attended 3 or 4 more games in the coming years, a blowout in the rain of the Chargers, another loss to Buffalo, a Monday Night game (we used to play a LOT on Mondays). But this time I tended to go with at least one friend (still couldn't convince my Dad to go) and I skipped the programs and the foam fingers.
I'd still go on the gyro-scope though.
Do you remember YOUR first time?
I managed somehow to find my seat, despite having to walk six miles upwards to get there. I settled in, and viewed the magnificence that was the football pitch. it was a beautiful thing. They didn't have baseball there back then. They even used to and probably still do have all the monster truck rallies indoors at Miami Arena. This land was football exclusive land.
I watched some of my heroes come running out onto the field and saw the big screens and heard the fanfare. Then I noticed something horrible. Very VERY horrible.
I was SURROUNDED by THEM. Buffalo fans. They were everywhere. All ages, mostly middle aged or older but there were teens, 20-somethings, etc. And they ALL noticed me. Sitting all alone...wagging my Dolphin's Number One foam finger. In my other hand was an over-priced glossy program. I didn't even have a beer in my cup holder.
And so it was that for the next 3 hours, I was bullied, ridiculed, spat at, and had various objects thrown at my head. I even made teary-eye contact with the usher in my section, speaking with my eyes to please DO something. She looked at me like I deserved it.
The Dolphins lost 41-27 that day. I lost my dignity. But I did get to see Marino, Duper, Clayton, Higgs, Oliver, Cox, JB Brown, Stoyanovich and some guy named Klingbeil. I was even able to locate my father for the post-game drive home, listening to Rachmaninoff, chewing some old gum trying to cover up the smell of the beer I'd had 3 hours earlier. It was easy enough as it was obvious my father had downed a few himself at a nearby watering hole during the game.
I attended 3 or 4 more games in the coming years, a blowout in the rain of the Chargers, another loss to Buffalo, a Monday Night game (we used to play a LOT on Mondays). But this time I tended to go with at least one friend (still couldn't convince my Dad to go) and I skipped the programs and the foam fingers.
I'd still go on the gyro-scope though.
Do you remember YOUR first time?
