Chilly in Philly (and a devastating if not unexpected loss)

It wasn't the cold, I decided. I was covered in hundreds of dollars worth of Patagonia down, which did a pretty good job of warding off the chill. But when it started to rain and sleet, I realized that that down was worth about 50 cents wet. The misery started to creep in.

It was, of course, Army-Navy weekend, the only event that could possibly have found me sitting outside, soaked to the bone in a "wintry mix," wondering if it were possible to drink enough beer to get warm. Ever again.

We had been talking about this weekend since Seth's massive disappointment at having been stuck in the hospital and unable to go last year. We had had hotel reservations for months, and I had started purchasing warm socks the minute I saw the longterm weather forecast. 

We fought traffic Friday night headed north on 95. We made it to Baltimore before we realized that someone who shall remain nameless had forgotten the tickets. It made for a long drive. We missed dinner but got there in time for barhopping. I had never seen anything like it. Cadets and midshipmen and old grads and young grads and soldiers and sailors and former football players crowded hotel lobbies and packed bars and restaurants. Seth and Mike traded hugs and handshakes and shouts across the room with close friends and people they hadn't seen in years and faces they definitely did not recognize alike, while Marlena and I tried to absorb it all and kept up a steady stream of martinis. 

We went for a run the next morning, taking in Philadelphia's historic sites on foot (and recognizing almost none of them), and stopped at the Reading Market to pick up pretzel-wrapped breakfast. There really is not a better way to see a place, and the City of Brotherly Love was growing on Marlena and I. Although we kept an eye toward the sky the whole time, knowing the snowstorm they kept talking about on the news was coming.

Seth, in a serious genius move, had gotten tickets to an indoor tailgate on game day, and secured club level seats for the game, so although we sat outside for four quarters we weren't soggy and windburned by kickoff, and had a place to warm up (and buy drinks) at halftime and when the action lagged a little. Probably saved the day, especially when that wintry mix replaced the big fluffy snowflakes we had almost been enjoying.

It wasn't a great game for Army, which lost soundly. It was a mixed bag for Seth, who was sad for the team but had been lobbying to get the coach fired all season, and knew that this was the last straw. I had a great time catching up with friends, and- since this was my first Army-Navy- enjoyed the stands full of cadets in their gray wool uniforms and the formations marching onto the field at halftime. Seth had talked about the meaning of Army football since we met, and I had even read the damned books on the subject he'd given me, and I guess I kind of got it, seeing this game. And how much he hated the loss.

Afterwards (and following a tipsy, hilarious mile-long run through the snow for the girls), we met Seth's old teammates at a bar for reminiscing and rousing cries to fire the coach. (Somebody listened, and the announcement came the next day.) Seth was in his element, and I was glad I got to be part of this with him. Even if it made for a long, damp day.

Seth must have appreciated my sucking up the wet feet and lack of sleep, and took me for a bellini-soaked brunch Sunday morning. It was a nice farewell to Philly and my first Army-Navy weekend. 

I should be able to feel my feet again by Wednesday.

I feel terrible. Seth and I always forget to take cute pictures until it's too late. I have almost none of him from Army-Navy weekend, so photo of the week #1 has to be of he and DJ and Aaron (his Army football teammates) at the pep rally the week before. I have to say they all clean up good.

#2 is just weird and funny. Marlena and Marissa raided actual garbage cans for these trash bags when it go really rough in the third quarter. I decided to stick it out with the wet down, so as a result they look cute and dry-ish, and I, oddly, resemble the hamburglar.