66,555 were cheering for the Seahawks.
Tabor and I were cheering for the Rams.
(I demanded of Adam what he was thinking cheering for the Seahawks. He was unapologetic since he's been a Seahawks fan his entire life. Fine. He did buy me a hot chocolate and you can't fault one for anything when they buy you a hot chocolate.)
It was cold. But a lot of fun.
Even Adam was cold.
Now that's cold.
When the Rams did something good (not often, but it did happen a few times), Tabor and I were the only ones cheering. Since Tabor didn't stand out enough with his tall lanky body, crutches that are taller than I am and cheering for the visiting team, he dressed like this for the game:
Tabor is who he is and I love him for it. (And also he bought me a hot chocolate on the way home and you can't not love someone when they buy you a hot chocolate.)
After the game we used the field passes Harvey gave us and waited outside of the locker room while he and other big players emerged after the game. We chatted with him for awhile and even though he is one of the meanest players in the NFL, he is one of the nicest guys around. He is humble and generous and soft spoken. And also funny. It was great to see him. Cousins are a wonderful invention. Even if you don't see each other often you have a connection. The whole blood is thicker than water thing.
He asked us, after he'd coughed, if our lungs hurt from the cold. He said, "Mine do." Tabor pointed out that we hadn't been working hard as he had been. While we were eating garlic fries, he was doing this:
|He's number 62.|
He was fun to watch. I was glad I wasn't opposite him. I also thought how our grandpa, the Harvey Dahl this Harvey Dahl is named for, would be bursting with pride to watch him. I told Tabor and he told me he was sure Grandpa was proud. And watching.
And that made me smile. My grandpa, bragging in heaven to anyone who would listen.