There are few places to shoot from, a lot of tedious entertainment during the downtime, and the offense hinges on long bombs. All of this takes place on uneven, worn turf that you can trip on while walking around on it.
Now I have to add bodies in the river to that list of grievances.
Of the two games I have shot this year, both have been preceded by waiting in a Richland park for rescue crews to fish bodies out of the Columbia River.
"Where are the bodies?!" you may be screaming through your foam-coated teeth.
Well, we have a strict no body policy and even though the second guy survived (and is still in critical condition last I heard), the possibility of death was enough to nix the shots I had of dive rescue fishing him out.
Odds are, tonight's Fever game won't bring on a wet body hat trick (that would've been more clever if it was a hockey game), but as I prepare for work, I can't help but notice the dreary, windy, gray and, dare I say, deathly weather we're having today.
Wish me luck.
