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According to the guy who sits behind us now that we've moved our seats, non of the refs in the league like us, they're out to get us, and the game was decided on some call during our first drive.
The guy who sits next to him is the "coach". "What the hell was that?" "I can see that from the stands, and I'm not even a coach." "Who the hell is calling the plays?" I so badly wanted to turn around and say, "I don't know, but why don't you go ahead and go over there and apply for the HC position?" If I'd been drinking, I might have.
These two are also the type who yell at people and tell them they must not care and asking what kind of fans we are whenever the people around them aren't yelling at every possible moment.
I asked dad if he'd ever consider another relocation.
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