The Blonde Duck goes to a basketball game

In the Pond, many of my fellow Pondites are obsessed with a certain NBA sports team. You may have heard of it--it's called the Spurs. For most people in the Pond, the Spurs are their Messiahs. The Spurs can do no wrong. If the players miss a basket, it's the other team's fault. If they lose a game, the other team set a voo-doo spell upon them and revenge must be taken.

Ben won some tickets at his company, so we got to go. The tickets would let us spend the evening dining in a private suite with catered food and wonderful seats so close we could see the players sweat. After work, we changed close and drove through the pouring rain to get there. I foolishly thought the floods and monsoon-like rains would deter spectactors--but oh no. They came in droves.

After we found our way to the suite, a feast lay out before us. We dined on salad, fruit, fajita meat, fresh tortillas and a huge subway sandwich. Now, this was no ordinary subway sandwich. This sandwich would have made Dagwood proud. It was full of thick, quality deli meat, cheese and some kind of pink sauce that was strangely delicious on thick wheat bread. In order to eat this enourmous sub sandwich, one had to literally vacumn it into it's mouth. Needless to say, it was glorious.

After chatting with a few company co-workers, we made our way to our seats. We watched the game and cooed over the graphics and catchy song clips. Then the true entertainment arrived: the blimp.

The blimp puttered it's way around the cieling directed by an invisible hand. It bobbed slowly up and down lazily through the air. People leaped toward the cieling, squealing in glee. And then, there was Ben.

"OOOOHOHHHHH!" Ben squealed. "I want it!"

Reaching above him, Ben joined the mass of hopping people. "OOOOHHHH!" he shouted, his arm raised in the air. "OOOOHHH!!!"

I simply stared at him.

"I really want one of these!" Ben squealed happily. "Can I have one? Can I can I?"

"Sure," I said. Ben looked excited at the prospect of owning his own blimp. After we left later that evening, he was still talking about it.

"Can I get a blimp?"

"Sure."

"I'm going to fly it all over the neighborhood."

"I'm sure you are."

"That was an awesome blimp."

"That was an awsome sandwich."

"No, I think the blimp was much cooler."

So there you have it. VIP tickets to an NBA basketball game, and we were impressed by a sandwich and a blimp.