Unable to persuade any of my pals to accompany me to the Storm game Saturday, I went anyway. Being alone certainly isn't going to stop me from having an experience. I figured at the very least, I could just go for the first half and then, like a restaurant critic, sneak out before the final course if things got bad. Well, I should have known better. As someone who, while channel surfing, comes across a curling match and pauses to take a peek and then gets totally sucked in, I should have known once there, I was in it for the long haul.
From my 9th row seat, I had a great view of an exiting game. It was neck in neck for the first quarter, then the Storm was down ten points at half time. The half time show was a performance by One World Taiko, an amazing Japanese drum ensemble who wowed the crowd. The Storm dance troupe, consisting of children ages 5-16 (more tots than teens), entertained us between quarters and during timeouts. Good little dancers, but, yes, tiny tots. The little girls had manes of long flowing hair they tossed about like sex kittens on top of a sleazy bar. That was slightly unnerving. But I tried to stuff my old fogy attitude away and appreciate the overall talent.
During the second half, the Storm came back fightin' and pulled ahead quickly. Late in the fourth quarter, Sheryl Swoope took a belt to the head which knocked her out cold. There were the usual hushed speculations amongst the crowd before she was hauled off on a stretcher. Then the team carried on and won the game by 12 points!
Yes, it was an exciting game. I was yelling, hollering, cheering and getting into it whole heartedly. I tried to chalk up a conversation with the guy sitting next to me, but no response. He was with his family. I wasn't flirting! Just trying to have some fun with the people who were near me! It's a sporting event for crying out loud.
Next day, after a heart pumping power walk, I did make that driving range date I promised myself. I figured I'd practice my swing, then saunter out onto the patio to sip a cool something or other and check out my fellow golfers. That backfired. The patio was closed for a private kiddie party. That shouldn't even be allowed. It's a golf club. Golfers expect to sit on the patio for cold one after a round of golf! While I was practicing my putting, a fella asked where the nearest place was to have a drink outside. I directed him to downtown Ballard. I'm pretty sure, based on his mannerisms, he was trying to figure out a way to ask me along. Sometimes it's a good thing that I'm right handed so my golf glove is worn on my left. Of course, in most cases that works against me since honing in on the wedding ring is my first order of business when I'm clocking a guy.
Definitely loads of men there, though. Will have to frequent more often-and maybe I'll actually improve my game in the process! Which really is the point, after all.
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