Now that's a weekend!

Whew!  I just got home from Baltimore and one of the most fun weekends I've had in a long time.  I had the honor of being a guest of my bff whose dad played for the 1958 Baltimore Colts.  This weekend was the 50th anniversary of the greatest game ever played.  The Baltimore Ravens organization put on an entire weekend reunion for these guys and their families that was really remarkable.  

I love professional football.  I grew up in a state without a franchise so I had to adopt them along the way.  I was a complete sucker for the QB.  When it was Terry Bradshaw and the Steelers, I threw a Superbowl party for me and my stuffed animals.  The Joe Montana years were beautiful.  Then it was Brett Fav-rah.  Fickle, yes.  Monogamous, no.  It's probably the most fun and painless way to enjoy football.  Just ask any Saints fan and they'll agree wholeheartedly.

So anyway, getting to be a tag-along on this junket was a complete thrill for me.  I even got hit on by a hall of famer.  The fact that he was three sheets to the wind, 70+ and could take his teeth out on command doesn't erase the fact that if I'd been willing he'd of hooked himself up to a Viagra drip and game on!  It was both horrifying and flattering at the same time.  Plus he was from Texas so the lines were good.  I can now die with the experience of being told "you're a fine lookin' woman" by someone with a true drawl.  

The game itself was awesome.  Great seats, great weather and perfect company.  It was so nice to get to hang out with my girlyfriend, who by the way has a fantastic new cosmetic addition that we will be sharing with all of you soon (hint: it has to do with eyelashes).  The only downside was the chicka in back of us whose mouth made me look like Mother Teresa.  I'm not sure if it was her mother or sister who was the recipient of the line "why do you have to be such a fucking bitch all the time?"  Then there was "I want a fucking interception" at the top of her lungs.  A few more beers and I might have told her that I hoped her effing tongue would break off and block her windpipe for being such a nasty pants.  But I refrained.  

My hat is off to the owner of the Ravens, all the amazing people who work for them, the players and their families.  They are class acts and have a new fan in me, albeit a bandwagon one.