As big a success as our Eagles game was last week the Phillies game was an EPIC. FAIL.
Things started out alright.
We got out of the house late (as usual) and were running to get there on time. The weather was terrible all day but the storms had finally cleared out so we thought we were good. The weather service was calling for no more than a 30% chance of rain. We got to our seats by first pitch which was lucky. The girls were being moderately annoying but no more than expected.
At the end of the third inning we decided to go take a walk and stretch their legs a little. As we walked down the stairs all heck started to break loose. A severe thunderstorm with incredible gusts of wind had moved in unexpectedly and the stadium evacuated the stands into the covered areas. We quickly found ourselves in a stair well with a couple hundred people only semi sheltered from crazy lighting and the loudest thunder I ever remember hearing.
Both of our girls are really sensitive to noise so you can imagine the hysteria that ensued for about twenty minutes. Once the storm calmed from a freght train to a dull roar the girls settled down a little. We waited another half an hour and decided it was safe to try to get to the car. (I wasn't thrilled since we only saw three innings, the tickets cost us almost $200 and it was my Mother's Day gift... but what can you do.)
We started down the stair well (which was like a waterfall) and I couldn't hold the rail. People were crowded in so there was nowhere to grab. I was carrying Abby and on about my third or fourth step I lost traction in my shoe and fell, hard. Thankfully my mother instinct kicked in and I forced myself back landing hard on my arm and my foot. I steadied myself, got up and went to step down to get on my feet and fell again!
Rather than helping people looked at me like I had been drinking all night... not just slipping. I kicked off my shoes, handed Abby to Brian (who has now realized what had happened) and we ran (I hobbled) for cover. We regrouped, made it to the car and headed home.
As we rode home I held back the tears. Not because my foot and arm ached horribly. Not because I could have easily fallen and hurt my daughter. I selfishly cried because my night was ruined. I knew it was stupid and selfish and juvenile. It's not like I don't get to a couple of games a year. just had built up this game in my head. Getting to share something I love with my daughters... I love that idea.
Instead it ended with bruises and scrapes and wasted money and disappointed kids.
Oh well, maybe next year.