The Late Fan Catches the Free Tix

As you all know, Beantown and I are in the thick of a deep and passionate love affair, and as the city's mixed-blood lover, I can confidently say that you haven't experienced Boston if you haven't done one of three things:

1.  Downed a pint of Harpoon while singing "Sweet Caroline."
2.  Tried to cross a street in Harvard Square (shout out!).
3.  Screamed until mute at a B.C. football game.

The daughter of a B.C. alum, I've done my fair share of #3, usually from the GG alumni bleachers.  But today, my friends...today was different.

My mom was originally slated to watch the gold spandex splendor but chickened out when she heard that sporadic T-storms would be terrorizing the Bay State.  Enter giddy daughter.

By the time my dad and I had stuffed the car with towels, ponchos, and extra socks, we barely made it to the stadium in time for kickoff.  Of course, the one thing that eluded our packing whirlwind was our game tickets.

We were lucky that the ticket office makes ticket printouts for season ticket holders who find themselves in our exact unfortunate situation.  We were even luckier that--while we stood there in a line nine people deep, watching the first few minutes on the tiny flickering ESPN feed dangling from the wall (the same feed that everyone at home was watching all warm and happy)--a man walked up to the line and asked if anyone wanted tickets.  Free tickets.

All the other fans stared silently in polite hesitation.  But Papa P. ripped those babies out of the stranger's hand and booked it for the turnstile.  

Section P.  20 rows above the sideline.  At the most exciting B.C. game I have ever had the privilege to watch.  A crushing defeat of division rival FSU.

Muteness accomplished.  Eat your heart out, early birds.


You can buy yourself a piece of the action at the B.C. Marketplace, a kind of Craigslist of football tickets.