Last night, I had a practice vacation. Jack, the kids and I went to the quarter finals of the Copa America game where the U.S. National soccer team played Ecuador. Jack and I had been talking about going to the quarter finals before the U.S. made it as the game was scheduled on a night when no one had a school event. It is the end of the year, and almost every night one of the kids has had a band concert, soccer party or track potluck. The tickets were more expensive than an Seattle Sounders game, and when multiplied by four, it makes for a pricey evening. Before the U.S. was going to play in Seattle, Jack had been hemming and hawing about buying tickets. When the U.S. got in, the Ticketmaster website was jammed with orders so we got seats in row Y in the upper deck in the end zone.
Normally, I believe life is too short to sit in the cheap seats, but there really aren't bad seats for a soccer game in a large stadium. And the first tier seats were $250 a ticket, which would have made for a $1000 night out for the family not including food and U.S. National Team "merch." (Before we left for the game, the Boy had said he wanted a scarf.)
My friend Hannah and her daughter were a few rows above us. There was one problem that I hadn't thought about when we bought the tickets, but Hannah saw it. "Why did Jack buy these seats with your knee?" We didn't think about the eight million steps I'd have to climb.
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| Steep and scary concrete steps to our seats. These bad boys make the steps to my house look a like preschool playground. |
As I mentioned in my previous post, I look at all stairs and see their tread length and riser height, like I am some kind of carpenter/architect. The rise on these aren't too bad, but the treads are terribly short. I had my usual death grip on the railing as I ascended. I would watch nervously as teen boys would bound up the stairs, holding piles of food. Please don't fall! I'd think. As I've mentioned a several hundred times in my posts, going down stairs is worse than going up. It is
Once I sat down, I feared leaving. Jack was kind enough to get food. We needed food since we'd hadn't yet had dinner and the Boy's mood is not pleasant when he has not been fed. Jack figured he'd be faster than me. Claire Adele helped, while the Boy and I watched the game. I felt terrible sending Jack to get food when I did. He was gone for three minutes when the US scored. The Boy later commented, "When a team scores in basketball, everyone is like 'Yay!' When they score in soccer, the crowd goes 'YAAAAAAAYYY! Woooo-hoooo!!!' and carries on." He is right. Fortunately, the US team scored again while Jack and Claire Adele were in their seats.
During halftime, the cameras scanned the crowd and scenes were played on the Jumbotron. "Hey, that looks like Evan," I said. Evan is my physical therapist. I thought it was him, or it was another hipster who looked just like him and he was three rows back. I couldn't really tell. Evan is much more reserved at physical therapy than the guy on the screen who was decked out in red, white and blue and screaming. If it were him, I bet my family that there was an 85% chance my PT appointment would be canceled for the next morning. We'll see.
Actually, I wouldn't be disappointed if my appointment were canceled. My knee could use a little break today. Going to the game was like a practice for our upcoming vacation to France. We will not be renting a car in Paris, so we will be walking and taking public transportation to get around. Last night, we walked to the bus, which took us to the Husky Stadium Light Rail station. We had to go up and over Montlake, and then down to the subway. I was lucky to get a seat. When we got to the stadium, there was a lot of walking and we had to go up lots of flights of stairs to get to our seats. We missed the entrance with the ramps that herd fans in like Temple Grandin's cattle runs.
I was worried about leaving the stadium, fearing I'd get plowed over by people behind me who moved faster. I was lucky--the crowd was so thick, it moved like molasses down those stairs. I also saw one person wearing a leg brace like I wore pre- and post-surgery and two people on crutches wearing orthopedic boots. I was impressed. They must have been die hard fans. There is no way I would have gone to an event like this while on crutches unless one of my kids were playing. I found the ramps to get down, and I felt like the slowest salmon in the stream. I hung the right on the ramps, letting people pass on the left, and I was fine. We walked the 1.3 miles home from Husky Stadium. My daughter even asked if my "quad was firing" during the walk, as I often talk about my misbehaving muscle. I felt okay, and I iced my knee twice before going to bed and first thing when I woke up this morning as a preventative measure against swelling and stiffness.
This was the most exciting sporting event I've ever been to. It was a tournament so it was do or die for both teams. The U.S. was leading 2-0, but Ecuador scored making it 2-1. The last twenty minutes of the game were as intense of a competition as I've ever seen, with the U.S. goalie earning his paycheck, saving everything including an almost self-goal from a defender who erroneously deflected the ball in the wrong direction.
I suppose I will feel about my vacation like I felt about this game: it was worth the effort. My family was patient with my slowness. They were all happy to be where they were, it didn't matter how fast I was moving. We were together and everyone was glad to be there.
If the evening wasn't nice, then I don't know what is.
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