Lions Game

Through squinting eyes, I scan the sea of baseball caps and burnt scalps before me. The ocean of sweaty fans ripples and shimmers with each out, hit, and bleacher fight. Today, the mid-July temperature and relative humidity are tied in their race towards 100. Shiny beach balls reflect the sun's searing rays as they bounce aimlessly through the stadium, occasionally getting lost amongst brightly covered sunbrellas and half-naked fans covered in body paint inspired by team spirit and alcohol. One group of five shirtless men, one painted letter displayed proudly on each middle-aged belly, have misspelled the home team's fierce name as L-O-I-N-S. Later this evening, their "hear us roar" attitudes will wear off as they part ways and ride the bus home as 'L' or wave down a taxi as 'I'.