Two weeks ago I won 2 tickets to see the Baltimore Blast play in game 2 of the MISL semi-finals. I told my kids that I had an extra ticket and they had to figure out who would get to go with me. I was hoping to watch them in a cage match, but my daughter piped in and said that she's already been to a Blast game, so she would let her brother go.
My son and I left after work and headed downtown. Unfortunately we hit stupid traffic on the stupid I-70 (not route 70). Then there was some more stupid traffic on the stupid beltway. Once we got on I-395 and headed into the city the stupid traffic got better.
We parked down under and came out looking for a place to eat dinner. My son suggested 7-11, but I nixed that idea. We decided on Salsaritas (read: I decided on Salsaritas), which you can read about from this shiny blue link.
We found our seats back near the back wall. I shouldn't complain. They were free. While we were sitting there passing the time (which included checking out the cheerleaders), I see 2 coworkers headed up to our section. I guess I wasn't the only person that won tickets. Now I know what it's like to feel like a cheap street walker. I wonder if this is how John Edwards' mistress felt when he started hitting on her while his wife was dying of cancer. But I digress.
The game finally started and the lower section started filling up - somewhat. These Blast games aren't like the games I remembered it as a kid back in the early 1980's. I clearly remember 85,000 people rocking the stands at the Baltimore Civic Center screaming and cheering for Stan Stomekovich, Richard Chinapoo, and Scott Manning. Now it was a house slightly leaning from one side to another.
As I looked carefully, I realized that most of the fans were on day-passes from local mental institutes or former cast members from Slap Shot. I swear I was the only person there that didn't put my pants on backwards this morning.
And then there was the game. Did you know that they play music even during the game? I actually didn't mind it. The Blast were playing La Raza de Monterrey, a team from Mexico. Fortunately, they weren't all killed in the drug wars going on in Mexico.
The Blast were down 10-6 with about 4 minutes to go (each goal is worth like 1.35 points). The Blast pulled the goalie, then quickly scored, bringing them within 2 points, or 1.75 goals (or something like that). Then with about 20 seconds to go the Blast scored again to tie the game. They had to win. It was game 2 of a 3 game series and the Raza already won game 1. For those of you that attended Baltimore City Public Schools, this means that if they lost this game, then they were eliminated from the playoffs.
The game then went into sudden-death overtime. Unlike the sudden-death that was going on in the ghettos surrounding the downtown part of Baltimore City, this sudden-death would be decided by who scores first. Billie Nelson, who went to my high school, played hard, but it was the Raza that scored first and sent the Blast home early to their part-time off-season jobs.
Overall, we had a good time. In addition to watching a good game, my son also got a Blast pennant and a long-sleeve Blast t-shirt. And most importantly, we got in and out of Baltimore City without being shot or thrown into the Harbor.
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