Take me Out to the Ballgame (and Out of the Playoffs)

I had the great pleasure of attending last night's Bears -vs- Skins game (Thanx Dan).
Sweet Jesus, did that fucking suck.
I really shouldn't be bitching about having the privilege of being handed free tickets for an NFL game between my two favorite teams, but here I go anyway:

I had an extra ticket for the game, so I called up my buddy Steve, who usually is good enough to let me share in his season tickets, and see if he had a friend that could use my spare - He did.
By the way, check out the ticket (to the right). These tickets were printed up in the offseason - With Sean Taylor. There was a 1 in 10 shot of any featured player being on the ticket for this game, but on the week after his funeral? Weird.
We met up in the parking lot about 3 hours before kick-off to get some bratwurst and a good buzz going. The first thing I noticed was how freaking cold it was. The cold-front had just moved over a day earlier, going from 80 degrees the week before, to 50 degrees this week, to 30 degrees for the game.
I was bundled up like the kid from 'A Christmas Story', and still freezing my ass off - It didn't help that I packed up all of my boots and hauled 'em back to Illinois. I was ankle-deep in snow wearing low-top Chucks - It was either that or dress shoes.
It was a pretty damed fine tailgate; bratwurst, crab cakes, fried soft-shell crabs, beer, and booze. I should have had the sense to steer clear of the grilled oysters - Whole oysters grilled in their shells. Everyone else had gloves on - I didn't. I was handed a fresh-off-of-the-grill oyster and lost the skin on my thumb, index finger, and middle finger tips. I still managed to eat it, but was in pain for the rest of the night (and still am).

The game was a freaking war of attrition for all but 30 seconds right before the half. I was digging it, and even felt a little bad (between ecstatic cheers) when Rex went out.
Rex got his revenge. With him out, I was free to cheer for the Bears, but I had worn out my Sean Taylor jersey out of a sense of obligation. He dies, I own his jersey, I've got tickets for the next game - Shelve the Butkus jersey. So, here I am routing for Chicago and decked out in Skins gear - I just crossed my arms and tried to be as stoic as possible, lest I look like a total fuck-wit.
At half-time we met up with Steve and a few other people at the end-zone bar (Meathead was a no-show). I had a few smokes, drank a few shots, and headed back to my seats... Only to realize that I had lost my ticket.
FUCK!!!
It must have slipped out while I was reaching for smokes or pulling my gloves outta their pocket. The guy I had been sitting next to had joined Steve down at his seats for the second half ( I declined because I had fancy-ass club seats right on the 50), so my alibi was gone for the security check. I tried calling Steve - Direct to voicemail. I tried calling Meathead - Nada.
I'm fucked.
I couldn't tell you anything that happened in the 3rd quarter, because I was on the phone trying to find a way back into the game. I finally started wandering upward to the nose-bleed seats, and found a couple of unattended gates at the top in the end-zone. Perfect.
I went from the fancy-ass hoity-toity seats to the nosebleeds with a guy vomiting into the empty seat directly in front of me (really). Charming.

You all saw the 4th quarter, so I don't have to tell you all about the travesty against all that is good that unfurled on the field. I stayed till the game went final.
Then I sat for 75 minutes in line trying to get out of the parking lot with a jacked-up monster truck pickup directly in front of me, and got to watch every braying jackass shoot the thumbs-up at the driver and take pictures next to it. Fucking douches.
I got so sick of that nonsense that I shifted into 4 wheel drive, jumped the curb, shot off into the free-lane, and outta the park. I'm hoping that the monster truck guy saw that and felt like a complete ass for being a timid twat with a big-assed truck - Fucking pussy.
After I got out of the parking lot, it was a swift 20 minute drive home.

I was planning on watching the game again on Tivo, but just said "fuck it", took a shower, poured myself a bourbon, and headed to bed.
I needed it.