As the parent of a high school football player, I have spent many days and nights watching games at Pop Warner fields and high school stadiums. As a racing fan, I’ve attended events ranging from the quarter-mile bullring formerly known as Riverside Stadium in Kansas City, MO., to the great expanse in Florida we call Daytona International Speedway. Insofar as these apps and venues are wildly different, they share something very near and dear to every fan in attendance: hard bleachers. Whether it’s the old splintered wood planks at a Desoto Super Speedway, the cold concrete home team seats at Brandon High School’s Pat Fussell Stadium, or the scorching aluminum bleachers that surround South Georgia Motorsports Park, the common thread is fact that your butt suffers. By the end of the day (or night), your rear end is numb, blistered, or has picked up various unwanted wood swatches. Regardless of which seating option you’ve been locked into, your viewing pleasure has been compromised because of it.
Compare this experience to the arena seats found at hockey or basketball games. Nice folding cushions with seat backs. Yes, that’s life. Unfortunately, stadiums that are exposed to the elements can’t have that luxury. Sure, the occasional ball park will take a back seat. A metal backrest that runs the length of the stand. And, of course, it’s one size fits all, with no possibility of adjustment, and it always crosses the back in the wrong place. Sometimes there will be a vendor renting seat cushions on site, but they are becoming as rare as smoking sections in restaurants, and will cost you about as much as a typical trip to the concession stand.
So what are your options to literally save your butt? Take a blanket to spread out and sit on? Minimal relief, and does not help the back. Pay rent, when available, every time. It does the job, but at $3.00 per event, it’s not very cheap. Also, you don’t know where it’s been, who sat on it, or if it’s been cleaned up. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not put my butt on the line like that.
Or, you can purchase your own personal seat cushion. Most are lightweight, easy to maintain and clean, and come in a color other than burnt orange (no offense to Texas Longhorn fans). I’ve found stadium seat cushions in my team’s colors, full vinyl with backs attached by straps and plastic hooks that secure them to the stands. Others are sturdy, with padded vinyl-covered metal bases and folding backs with aluminum hinges. Whichever option you choose, I guarantee that you will enjoy the event more with it than without it. Your partner will be happier besides not having to remove the splinters from your butt (this has happened to me, it’s not as funny as it seems in the cartoons). One suggestion though: get enough for everyone in your party. If you’re the only one bringing a cushion to the game, keep in mind that when you get up to go to the bathroom or concession stand, your seat will be taken by your spouse or child when you return. Or even worse, during the third quarter, you will begin to hear the whining of the less fortunate and feel compelled to give up your seat for the sake of family unity.