Yesterday, I exited my car in Blue Springs and stepped into 57 degree weather. Now, I had not seen a weather report since earlier in the week. That means it is going to be hard for me to complain too much, but I'm pressing on with the story. I was meeting a friend near his house to catch the Chiefs Express to Arrowhead.
My friend stepped out of his car wearing a three layers of shirts, a hat, gloves, and a big coat. Weird, I thought. He asked me if I had a jacket, and explained that is was going to get "cooler." I rummaged through my trunk and found a rain jacket that was tantamount to a windbreaker.
Not more than 30 minutes later, we stepped off the bus at Arrowhead and the first breath out of my mouth was visible. "How cold is it supposed to get?" I asked. "30 degree drop," my buddy said.
By the middle of the second quarter, it was 24 degrees. I was still wearing a long sleeve t-shirt and a windbreaker. I've likely been colder in my life, but it is hard to remember exactly when.
I managed to make it through the entire game, which was itself best summed up by two phone conversations I had later that day. While talking to two separate people who had watched the game only to turn it off with a couple of minutes to go, I twice heard:
"Well, at least you got to see them win, right?"