Friday night the Texan and I decided to do something outside of renting a DVD and drove instead out to lovely Cibolo, Texas, for a double-header of the Texas Pro-Soccer Tournment. Or something along those lines. It was a bunch of exhibition matches of MLS teams held all last week while they went through their spring training. I am not bitter at all that we bought tickets on Thursday for $35/pop and then they were on sale Friday for $10 each. Nope, not in the slightest.
Outside of getting reamed in the wallet, it was a fun evening. Even more so as we had no clue who was playing. We'd thought it was Chivas USA vs. Houston, but we got there right when the players were coming on the field and were engrossed in purchasing BBQ brisket sandwiches when they were announcing the players, so we didn't pay attention, figuring they'd mention it again. WRONG. While they technically had an announcer, he was there to thank sponsors and didn't give any hints as to who was who. And because it was at a high school stadium, there wasn't any big-screen to show you close-up of the players or instant replays or anything like that. At the half, we got a hint that we were actually watching DC United vs. Toronto, but we weren't sure who was who.
Finally, 78 minutes into the game, we definitively decided which team was which. Nothing gets past us. And, to confirm it, 86 minutes into the game - for you non-soccer players, that meant that there were four minutes left for the entire match - DC United scored. GOOOOOOL!!!! And they won the game, hooray.
I used to occasionally go to DC United games when I lived in DC. I'd half-worried that the asshole with the drum who went to every single game and beat the drum until it bored into your soul was going to be at the exhibition match. Turns out I missed him, since in his stead, they had half a dozen teenage boys blowing on horns at random. MUCH more annoying.
We had to sit near the top of the bleachers to get decent seats. The climb damn near killed me, but I felt better when a few high school girls wearing varsity jackets sat near us, huffing and puffing, and wondering how it was that they were athletes and yet couldn't handle the hike up the bleachers. You and me both, sisters.
The Texan and I left after the first game as I was half-frozen. It was in 40s and dropping and I'd forgotten how cold that was. My (um, uncovered and sockless) feet were numb by the end.
The next day, I bade adieu to The Texan and flew to LA for a week with the Ladyship Family. I'm working from home this week and am happy to report that Mama Ladyship seems to be picking up, health-wise. The only fly in the ointment is the wine opener. Last time I was here, I accidentally packed the good corkscrew in my carry-on bag. Guess what? It went through airport security, even though the TSA screener watching it go through x-ray said to his colleague, "Hey, look, that looks like a corkscrew" - AND LET IT GO THROUGH. I was happy not to lose the corkscrew but come on now. Anyways, I left the good corkscrew in Texas, so I've had to make do with an inferior version. Not the worst thing that could happen, that's for sure.