Here's a little excerpt, by the way (from the chapter on the Denver snow game):
"By the time we made our march toward the stadium, it was more of a Game of Thrones-esque trudge through the land beyond The Wall than an organized, joyous parade. The snow and the cold were now prominent and present and looked like they were going to be factor significantly into the game.
Once in the stadium -- where we were each handed a scarf, which I put to immediate use as a reinforcement for my first scarf -- we walked from the gates to the main concrete concourse, and down the stairs to the metal bleachers closest to the field. The American Outlaws customarily sit at one of the goal ends of the stadium; ours, of course, was the end into which the wind was blowing snow. The stadium crew -- which would turn out to have an increasingly important role as the events of the evening transpired -- were using a driveable snowplow and shovels to clear the lines and then other portions of the field. We started up a spontaneous “Sho-vel, sho-vel” chant, and I’d like to say it was born of appreciation for heroic effects in keeping the playing field an actual, playable field. But, to be honest, it was more an acknowledgment of the absurdity of the situation -- more a snowglobe than a stadium, with the shovel guys as much a part of the entertainment as the players themselves. And, of course, there was also the jubilation that we’d achieved a real home field advantage, with snow and what looked to be a cadre of loud, delirious, screaming-to-avoid-hypothermia fans in the stands."