The top of the ramps were met with panting plebeians, exasperated in part from the labor of the climb, in-part from the battle shrieks and in part from the percolating anticipation. A series of evenly spaced vomitories spewed the bodies into the heart of the amphitheater with ease. At first what appeared to be a breathing wave of scarlet movement through the passage ahead of me soon revealed itself as my equal on the opposite side of the vast structure. The restriction of the close opening was peeled back like a curtain giving me a breath-shortening view of the cavernous space. I was surrounded in all directions by nationalistic roars of 110,000 cheering red-clad attendees of all walks of life. Above me enclosed luxury boxes housed the no less enthusiastic wealthy, their faces just visible through the reflections of the glass in front of them. They were private citizens, CEOs, presidents, Senators and Governors. The band, now playing military marches in full strength had arranged itself in a rigid, angular formation that vaguely spelled “OHIO” and stretched half of the length of the field. Four enormous flags bearing the same letters, large enough to be read throughout the stadium and each requiring the power of two individual, were raised. With a final cry of encouragement this color guard charged from their stationary position at the corner of the field and sprinted through the heart of the band’s ranks. Explosions from fireworks pierced the air as a legion of fully armored Goliaths flooded the field behind the colors.

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