casmith07;3059537 said:
1. I refuse to call it "the Linc." It's Lincoln Financial Field. No nicknames for punk-*** rival teams.
2. Be prepared to fight...two years ago at FedEx a Commanders fan spit on my mother. Fisticuffs were in order. Since I was sober, I made short work of the drunk but it wasn't fun for anyone.
About 10 years ago I went to a game at Scum Devil Stadium in Tempe. I was not wearing Scum Devil colors. A friend of mine, Fred, an attorney in Phoenix, insisted we stop at a store so he could buy some Scum Devil colors to make sure if someone decided to fight me he wouldn't be lumped in with me. No joke, he bought clothing after the fact to avoid a fight.
I usually don't have problems at football games. Even among fans of other teams. In fact we get along pretty good most of the time. Part of it I'm sure is that I'm not a small guy, but I don't go looking for trouble either and I crack a lot of jokes. Usually people all around me are joking throughout the game and we all have fun, win or lose.
All of this is true as long as alcohol is not part of the equation. I have seen too many brave drunks who don't care to just enjoy the game, they want trouble. Even then, they avoid me. 2 rows below where I was sitting was a family all wearing the visiting team colors like I was. Almost everyone else around us is in Scum Devil colors. There was an occasional single fan like me in blue and white, but we were a very tiny minority. This family was fairly large and they took up basically the whole row, except for the very 2 end seats. They kind of stood out in the section where we were. One solid line of blue.
So up the stairs comes a very drunk ASU fan and his lady. All the way up the aisle he is making insulting comments to people wearing blue. I thought, "okay, if I do get in a fight today, this is the guy it is going to end up being with." I was hoping he was not sitting behind me all game long. My wife, saw me watching him and she said in my ear, "don't start anything." I assured her I wouldn't, but I wouldn't take some of the crap he was spewing either.
This guy's seats are the two end seats of the aisle with the big family and there is a 12 year old boy who is partially, and I mean barely, in the first seat. An inch or 2 over the midway point, maybe. There was plenty of room for 2 people to sit down. This guy goes into a profanity laced tirade about this kid being in his seat. I'm talking over the line like you cannot believe. Threatening to throw the kid over the edge of the stadium, all kinds of crap. My wife and my friend Fred and the others in our party, are now all basically holding me in my seat because this guy is being a colossal jerk.
The next thing I know at the other end of the line the kid's uncle gets up and starts down the row to what I think is to defend the boy. Holy cow, this man was huge! Think the Brawny Paper Towel guy. He was about 6'7", I'd say at least 285 pounds, and his arms were as big as most people's legs. He had on a blue plaid shirt and he just looked like a huge lumberjack. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his forearms showing. Behind me I heard another ASU fan say, "dear Lord, that's the biggest man I've ever seen." This guy was WWE wrestler kind of big. Pure muscle.
This giant of a man politely asked his family to skooch all the way into his vacated seat so that he was not taking up any of the man's seat and he sat down giving the ASU fans plenty of room. The 12 year old boy sat immediately to his left, leaving the drunk ASU fan and his lady to sit to his right in their seats. He never said even one threatening word to the man or gave him a dirty look or anything.
We never heard one more peep out of the drunk tough guy all game long. Not one word. He didn't even celebrate ASU good plays. We had to have been in the quietest section of ASU fans in the Stadium. It didn't hurt that the Scum Devils were losing though.
On the other hand, I talked smack all game long. The only person who ever asked me to tone it down was Fred. I said, "no one is going to say crap to me today. I'm with that guy," and I pointed at the quiet, polite giant 2 rows below me.
Drunken tough guy left early in shame and quiet as a mouse. I yelled goodbye to him. No response.
When the game was over and we were leaving the stadium the big guy stuck his hand out and thanked me for the laughs I had provided during the game. My hand disappeared inside this guy's hand. I thanked him for straightening out the drunk guy without any violence. He said, "he hadn't drank enough to be that brave yet." I said, "I don't think there was enough alcohol in the stadium to get him that drunk."
I think Fred took a picture of the guy during one part of the game. I will have to find out if he still has it. I don't think I have seen a more quiet man be that intimidating and polite at the same time in my entire life. It was amazing.
