In my mind, fanny packs have always fallen into the realm of the unthinkable. Grouped with the likes of socks with sandals, crocs, and parachute pants, they were one of those social taboos that needed no explanation. And yet, one recent Saturday night, much to my own surprise (disgust?) I found myself standing at a pregame, in semi-formal attire, drink in hand, with a flaming orange sack strapped around my waist.
