So how does your gentle hero find himself at Papa Johns Stadium in Louisville at around 12:00 p.m. on a Saturday, when it is, as they say, colder than a Wiccan's secondary sexual characteristics? Contrary to your likely first assumption, it did not involve me losing a bet. But other than that, I really can't explain how I got there other than to say, I guess I'll try anything for a friend (in this case, Dan Hitchcock, a fellow attorney and a Louisville alum who happened to have an extra ticket and needed some back up).
So, in the spirit of friendship, your humble narrator left the warmth of his home to trek to Louisville to sit outside in one of the coldest days of the new winter season to watch two teams contest a football game in which he had no rooting interest . . . and I've got to say, it was okay. For Dan's sake, I wish Louisville would have won (While I could have needled Dan about Louisville losing on the drive home, having recently felt the sting of the UK men's basketball team's losses myself, I figured my own knife might be turned back on me). Nonetheless, it was fun to hang out, to observe drunk West Virginia fans (our seats were in the West Virginia section) and to watch two teams play some football.
Add that to my going undefeated in my FNM draft last night, and I've got to say, I've had a pretty good day . . . well, you know, except for the hypothermia.
Title: Cold, by Crossfade