So we're off to Cleveland this weekend to see Anne's family. The Browns are at home so I suggested we go see the game.
It's not like the Browns are the Patriots, consequently I would expect to be able to afford tickets somewhere close to the 50 yard line. For those not in the know, this is where the middle-class people sit.
My nephew called and announced he had snagged us 2 tickets. The big news? We're in the die-hard crazy bastard section behind the end zone.
In Cleveland this is called the Dawg Pound.
It should be fun, and who knows after a couple of cold domestic beers maybe I'll be 'that' guy, who dons the Dawg mask and takes his shirt off to reveal a big 'C' written across his chest.
Just in case I'll Sharpie pen a 'B' onto Anne's chest before the game.
I've nothing to say about this guy except "Wow".