Looking backwards

(editor's note: recently we received a bundle of old ticket stubs and newspaper clippings from Western Wisconsin without a return address. A note inside indicated "This autta (sic) give you guys some idea of what we're talkin bout. Don't trust a Holy Roller! Truthfully, Dee Louis" We've scanned and posted the safe-for-work version of the clippings)

So, this happened. In what was my first trip to The Meadows, we decided that we had definitely gambled enough and were now in the mood to watch D-talent football players fall down without tackling. The final score of this game was 12-9. All field goals. And there were like 10 misses in there too.

We did get to drive through the absolute armpit of Las Vegas to get out to the stadium though, so all was not lost.

That's Wayne Terwilliger's autograph. He'll outlive us all.

"Hey man, you know where I can cash this? Better yet, you got 60 cents for the bus?"

What would happen if I brought this back now? They probably wouldn't bat an eye. What's the oldest one of these you think they've accepted at the Plaza? There has to have been a bum out there who found a winning Keno ticket from like 1967 who brought it to the cashier and she didn't even flinch.

The color coding. The "to do" list (note that "Get Up" is on there). The commentary ("Isiah vs. Larry, I wonder who will win"). The analysis. It's all here folks. The main nerve of Las Vegas.

.

Let's take a small break.

Phones. Come and get em.

Nope.

Sports! Brought to you by cigarettes.

Pro-tip: If you look like you're in the first stage of a world-class goiter, you might want to avoid posing for a picture holding a sausage link. And Brent, if you are a grown-ass man with braces, you might want to just dial the smiles down until you see the orthodontist.

I'll pass.