All around me I can hear chants of joy mixed with slight frustration. I can almost smell the sweat coming from the stands. I would do anything for it to be ten degrees cooler. Maybe even just five.

I wish I cared more about this game, maybe it would make my job slightly more entertaining. All I do is sweep up dropped popcorn or mop the throw up from the drunk guys behind the field goal.

There was this one thing that was pretty cool about the game on Sunday. The Panthers were playing some yellow team, I don't know who, but I got to witness a 90 yard run with a touchdown to follow. I normally hate the people that come to the games. They are so obnoxious and aggressive. However, at this particular play, it was as if all of their excitement rushed into me at once and got me excited about the play. It was exhilarating.

One moment I was sweeping up the stale popcorn under seat D3 and then next thing I know my broom is on the ground and I'm jumping and screaming. I didn't care that the soccer mom behind me threw more popcorn down. I didn't even care that I could feel the sweat on my arms of the two men beside me. All I could focus on was that player speeding down the field, dodging, and spinning from the other team. He almost got tackled around the twenty-yard mark. Man, that was a terrifying moment. He kept going though and he threw that weird shaped ball down so hard out of excitement.

After about three minutes of talking with the fans around me about how amazing that was it all rushed back to me, life I mean. I'm a janitor at the Panthers stadium just praying one day I get bumped up to concessions. I don't usually care about the game because I see so many, and another game means more spilled drinks and unused napkins on the ground. Last Sunday though, that was a good one.