Thanks...
Funny how when you're a kid, the usher is the enemy. Now I look at this jacket as if it were an old friend. I can remember one year, must have been 1974 or 1975, but a buddy and I had hatched what we thought was the fool proof plan to sneak down from the red seats (uppermost level) to the blue seats (field boxes) at Riverfront. We would bring one of our dad's larger jackets with us. Once inside the stadium we would begin our way down the ramp. If it looked like we were going to get questioned, we would pick up the pace and yell "hey dad, wait up."
Once we got to our ill gotten seats, we would put the jacket in the seat between us, as if dad had gone to the john or to get a bear...you know, dad things. If questioned we would say that "dad" had the tickets. The plan was going better than the first 24 hours of the ground war in Desert Storm, when the usher came by to where we where sitting. He asked for our tickets...and with out a pause both my friend and I blurted out, pointing to each other... "his dad has them". The usher then came back with "whose dad" (he wasn't falling for the jacket on the empty seat). Without skipping a beat we both blurted out "my dad." We watched the rest of the game from the red seats.
Needless to say I am enjoying this usher more than I did the one that fate full day.
Dave Grob
DaveGrob1@aol.com