For the first two years of their stay in Baltimore, the Ravens played their home games at an aging Memorial Stadium, the former home of the Colts. During the one year I was at the stadium, my seats were in a temporary bleacher in one of the end zones. It wasn't optimal, but it was NFL football.
Over at High Clearing, one of Jim Henley's readers captured perfectly just what a bad day at that old yard could be like:
If you want to see football as God intended, then you should walk a mile from your expensive parking spot, wait in line for the privelege of displaying your overpriced ticket, walk very very slowly to your seat in time to miss the first ten minutes, persuade the crowd to move 12 inches so you can wedge your butt onto the cold steel seat, freeze slowly in the cold rain, and pray that you don
