Thursday, 31 January 2008
Superbowl Sunday
I have been at the airport since just after midday trying to get out of Chicago to Charleston in South Carolina. The snow has been falling all day, my original flight was cancelled and I'm now on a later one. Of course that has given me plenty of time to muse over the transfer deadline bullshit!
I'm going to Charleston for a Superbowl weekend with some mates. The Superbowl is for many American’s the biggest day in the calendar and it has become traditional for me and a group of friends to chose a venue and each make our way there to spend a weekend together that involves drinking, sightseeing, movie quizzes and then finally on the Sunday watching the Superbowl, which a bit like the FA Cup when I was a kid dominates the television from the minute you get up until the minute you go back to bed.
In previous years we have met in New York, Chicago, Washington DC and Florida but Charleston was chosen as it is somewhere none of us have been, it’s got a lot of historical value and we are spoilt for choice of boozers.
I have had an exhausting two days of meetings getting home late last night and up early this morning to get into work for a couple of hours. I wasn't particularly looking forward to the flight, but it's amazing what the thought of sitting at an airport for 8 hours can do to change one's mind. If I get out tonight, it will be my 8th flight in 8 days, I do have more air miles than Douglas Bader.
Meanwhile back in my apartment we have the builders for company again, working on our bathrooms. I had a frantic phone call earlier while I was being told my flight was cancelled, just after I read that Andy Reid had been sold to Sunderland telling me that there was water pouring into the place directly below ours. It hasn't been a good day.
The weekend, when I manage to start it, will be a laugh though and I’ve just pictured one of my mates diving into a waterfall in St Petersburg last year on the way back from the pub, which someone had kindly squirted some fairy liquid into to make it the biggest bubble bath you have ever seen, only to realize too late that the waterfall was only about 12 inches deep. More of the same kind of dancing I suspect this year in Charleston. ¶ 18:00
I have been at the airport since just after midday trying to get out of Chicago to Charleston in South Carolina. The snow has been falling all day, my original flight was cancelled and I'm now on a later one. Of course that has given me plenty of time to muse over the transfer deadline bullshit!I'm going to Charleston for a Superbowl weekend with some mates. The Superbowl is for many American’s the biggest day in the calendar and it has become traditional for me and a group of friends to chose a venue and each make our way there to spend a weekend together that involves drinking, sightseeing, movie quizzes and then finally on the Sunday watching the Superbowl, which a bit like the FA Cup when I was a kid dominates the television from the minute you get up until the minute you go back to bed.
In previous years we have met in New York, Chicago, Washington DC and Florida but Charleston was chosen as it is somewhere none of us have been, it’s got a lot of historical value and we are spoilt for choice of boozers.
I have had an exhausting two days of meetings getting home late last night and up early this morning to get into work for a couple of hours. I wasn't particularly looking forward to the flight, but it's amazing what the thought of sitting at an airport for 8 hours can do to change one's mind. If I get out tonight, it will be my 8th flight in 8 days, I do have more air miles than Douglas Bader.
Meanwhile back in my apartment we have the builders for company again, working on our bathrooms. I had a frantic phone call earlier while I was being told my flight was cancelled, just after I read that Andy Reid had been sold to Sunderland telling me that there was water pouring into the place directly below ours. It hasn't been a good day.
The weekend, when I manage to start it, will be a laugh though and I’ve just pictured one of my mates diving into a waterfall in St Petersburg last year on the way back from the pub, which someone had kindly squirted some fairy liquid into to make it the biggest bubble bath you have ever seen, only to realize too late that the waterfall was only about 12 inches deep. More of the same kind of dancing I suspect this year in Charleston. ¶ 18:00
