It was just so hard to say "no." A Monday night Broncos game, chicken wings, big screen televisions...the allure was overwhelming.
So we went.
And we sat and waited for the game to start. And waited. And waited. And waited.
Unfortunately, since the TV service here is Canadian, we had to wait for the Hockey Hall of Fame inductions to wrap up before the Canadian sports network that broadcasts Monday Night Football would switch over to the game. Don't get me wrong -- I appreciate Steve Yzerman as much as the next guy (or gal). But really? Where's the "walk off" music or whatever they call it at the Grammys and the Oscars? Someone cue up the orchestra, would you? Yzerman's speech went on and on and on. It seemed like he was related to every person in the audience and had to point each one out and mention what an important role each person had played in his hockey life.
And I guess he should be able to do that. He was, after all, being inducted into the hall of fame.
Brynn, with Steve Yzerman in the background, waits for the game to start.
But at the expense of a Monday Night Football game? While my kids are running around like wild women and my husband refuses to order food until he knows for sure that the game will actually be on?
So about fifteen minutes after kickoff, Steve finally wrapped up his speech and the network switched over to the football game. We'd already missed the Bronco's first score -- a field goal. We ordered food, we ate, we tried in vain to control our children and tried to watch the game at the same time.
Around halftime it was clear that we needed to go home. Callie was about to fall asleep at the table and Brynn was exhausted, too. We got the check, paid the bill, watched one last play and then headed for the car. Seconds after we left, the Broncos sacked Roethlisberger, caused a fumble, and picked up the ball and headed for the end zone. They scored twice last night and we missed them both.
Which makes me think that we won't bother trying that again.
Oh, right, and then there's the terrible case of the runs that Scott and I have today.
How is it that we can eat Mexican street food from any vendor in town, but when we go into a gringo sports bar, we get sick?
While waiting for the game to start, we did see a little taco stand across the river from the sports bar. It appeard to have a great veiw of the tv. The picture might be a little small, but I think next time we'll settle for that. Smaller bill and no intestinal disruption.
Sounds good to me.