Maybe the most exciting thing Jackson and I did this summer was going on a tour of Bank of America Stadium with some of Bonnie's MILFs (moms interested in league football).
Home of YOUR Carolina Panthers. Rawr.
I've never driven to the stadium, so I did try to park in the player's parking lot at first. Here is the exchange I had with the parking attendant:
PA: Welcome to Bank of America Stadium, can I check your weapon, please?
JH: I don't have a weapon on me, ma'am.
PA: Oh, well, let me get you one!
We had a not-quite-all access view of the stadium. Among some of the stops we made were:
- Press suite, featuring buffet lines for the sports press and a stellar view of the field (of course) with big screen TVs showing every other game in the NFL. Strangely, there is also a typewriter to note every major play in case one of the sportswriters misses it while he's in the john.
Jackson tries to type his name on this typewriter--it's the only chance he'll ever have of the sports press calling him out.
- A view of the field from the first row at the fifty yard line. Again, an area of the field we'll probably never see a game from, but cool to be there on that day!
Jackson contemplates the physics behind a tackle.
- Various locker rooms. I may or may not have picked up a wicked case of athlete's foot left over from the Buffalo Bills. Shouldn't have opted to go on the tour barefoot... We didn't get to see the Panthers' locker room--police were still in there looking for the rest of Greg Hardy's weapons cache, I assume. We did, however, see the star of the team's locker room--Sir Purr.
We couldn't go in--weekly hairball cleaning.
All in all, Jackson couldn't have cared much less about where he was and the interesting bits of football trivia our tour guide was spouting, but I think he had fun being out with me.
Perhaps the next time we return to the stadium, there will be footballing to observe. Home run! Huzzah!
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