Dear Diary,
This last weekend was a whirlwind! It started with a visit from Mrs. Digdug’s parents. Every time they visit, they seem to bring with them some kind of strange or extreme weather. Anything from tornadoes to ice storms has been possible, and this visit would prove to be no different. Rain, and lots of it. A record-setting amount of rain for the month, and we are barely over a week into it. Rain would become the overarching theme of just about everything that would happen throughout the extended weekend. Even when you were not being soaked by it, usually you could see and hear it in the background. It was a busy few days, but waiting at the end of it was a trip to Arrowhead. No amount of precipitation could dampen my spirits because once again I was going to see my beloved Kansas City Chiefs.
Friday was most filled with demolition of our kitchen. Our goal was to finally get a dishwasher installed, and that first means making room by cutting out existing cabinets. Costs started to pile up quickly though, and soon it was not only a dishwasher, but now a countertop, sink, and new faucet as well. As I watched my bank account melt away like the Wicked Witch of the West, I continued to find resolve because a trip to Arrowhead was edging closer.
Mrs. Digdug is a workout warrior. I have often called her my Wonder Woman. On Saturday that meant an early wake up call for a half marathon. Outside the weather looked bleak. No one wants to run 13.1 miles in 40 degree weather with the wind and rain beating against you the whole time, and I certainly didn’t want to cheer someone on in those same conditions. It turns out we would get lucky on both accounts. Though it was drizzling at the start, a couple miles in the rain would go on a brief hiatus. This miracle gap in monsoon season along with the cool weather would allow Mrs Digdug to record her best ever finish at that distance. And her loving, caring, supportive husband was waiting with a warm hug at the finish line. In less than 2 hours, her race was over, but I was still in the middle of my race. The race to Arrowhead. It was certainly not a sprint, and it had its fair share of obstacles along the way including every amateur handyman’s nightmare job...plumbing. We would make significant progress the rest of the day though, and the four of us would go to bed that evening satisfied with the work accomplished. We had done it. We had made it through. Finally, we were on the cusp of what the whole weekend had been building towards. As the sun would crest the horizon, we would begin the long haul to Arrowhead.
The wipers would get a workout over the next 227 miles, as our little orange Pumpkin would propel us closer to our destination despite being pounded by rain the entire way. The sky was completely overcast with clouds, but there was still a silver lining among them. Unlike our last trip to KC, no deer would come between us and the stadium that has become like second home to me. There would be two detours along our journey. One was a quick diversion to a nearby Walmart for some rain gear (also known as garbage bags since they were sold out of ponchos). The other would be some brief confusion due to a road closure when we were but a few miles from the stadium. Mrs Digdug performed admirably in her role of navigator. She was calm despite the raging storm outside our vehicle. A mere handful of minutes later, we had arrived.
After parking the car, we began our climb up the hill to that beacon of everlasting hope...Arrowhead Stadium. It was a sight that nearly moved me to tears. Beautiful. Surrounded by mist and fog, it still radiated splendor. The rain increased as we stood in line at the gate. Some people might have said their bodies were frozen to the core. But not me. Inside my chest, my full heart sent waves of warmth to my extremities. The excitement and anticipation were almost too much to bear. It was been a long wait to get to this moment. The only thing that seemed longer was the line at the gate. It was so long, in fact, we would not get to our seats until midway through the first quarter. But all that was forgotten in an instant as we watched Patrick Mahomes dive across the endzone for a Kansas City Chief touchdown. Suddenly nothing else mattered. We didn’t care that we were soaked or that back home our kitchen looked like a construction zone. We were now a part of something bigger. The Sea of Red.
It was a game full of exciting plays from start to finish. Every time we were about to give up on the defense, they would create another turnover when they had no more yards to give. Offense is fun and exciting, but it has always been defense that gets Arrowhead rocking. This Sunday was no exception. Even the Digdug-in-laws were on their feet and tomahawk chopping with the rest of the crowd. It was an electric feeling. A break in the clouds at halftime would only serve to brighten our day even more. And unlike a certain playoff collapse, which will not be named, there would be no surrender in the second half. The defense continued to create turnovers, and the offense would do enough to complete the blowout. High fives to be had by all. The only disappointment I would feel is when fans began to file out of the stadium with over 9 minutes left in the fourth quarter. But it was their loss. As for me and my family, we were going to suck up every second of joy the Chiefs were willing to give to their faithful fanbase.
As the last second ticked off the clock, we would begrudgingly leave our seats and head back to our car, Pumpkin. Sounds of celebration were reverberating through the stadium concourses and across the parking lot. Our team was undefeated in the season, and it made us feel as if nothing could defeat us as fans. Confident and ready to face another work week, we began the long journey home. But first, we would make a stop at our favorite BBQ joint in Kansas City: Q39. A Chiefs win had filled our hearts and now barbeque filled our bellies. Though the drive home is only 3 hours, it still took a rotation of drivers to accomplish. We were all exhausted from a day of excitement and falling victim to our respective food comas. Eventually we would make it back home, still buzzing from the energy of the game. We sat around the television that night, watching highlight of the game and many others that occurred that day. We did our best to relive the moments and stay on that high for as long as possible. But one by one, we would all come down and get ready for bed. Sleep is the only thing we still craved. It had been a weekend to remember. And thanks to you, diary, now I’ll never forget.
Yours Truly: Jordan "Digdug" Schrag
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