It happened a couple of hours ago at The Pacers vs. Cleveland game.
With about 6:00 minutes left in the game, Boomer, the Pacer's mascot, rolls out a T-shirt cannon. The apparatus uses compressed air to blast the rather cheap shirts up into the crowd. The fans go wild over this. Something about getting something for free brings out the beast within almost every human being in the field house. It's fun to catch one in front of thousands of other fans, but the shirts mean nothing to me. I've caught 2 so far and gave them away.
I sit on the aisle and have an edge over my seat locked competition. Tonight there was a tall youngster right in front of me who wisely stepped part way into the aisle to our right and had effectely blocked me out. It was going to be tough. The shirt coming from the tube aimed right toward us sailed way over our heads. It appeared that any chance for a free shirt was over. But wait! A shirt was coming right toward me and high enough so the gangly dude couldn't reach it. It started to fade to my left. I reached out and it went just out of reach. I must have overextended.
I couldn't get my right foot back down. I slowly toppled over my dear wife's lap and slightly forward. My upper torso wound up in row 14 and my legs were danging in row 15. I was face to face with a shocked four-year-old. I couldn't plant my feet to get back to my proper row and my arms couldn't immediately find a place to push myself back onto my feet. If one didn't see it go down, it looked like I had dived in front of the little fellow in 14 and attempted to snatch the $2 shirt from his cute little hands.
Outside of an apology to all the fans who I nearly squashed, there was little I could do.
As mentioned the other day, I'm a walking disaster - A true bull in a china shop. Once I brushed into a stack of glassware at Crate & Barrel causing the display to wobble. Wife told me to wait outside before we have to buy the whole store.
Today was another one for the book.