My New Blog
I'm putting my best foot forward into my former life of baseball blogging.
Many moons ago, I wrote a fairly popular Twins blog with a buddy of mine called "The Baseball Boys". Our site even got written up in Minneapolis Star Tribune with some other Twins bloggers.
Now, I am going to attempt to tackle a whole new beast: The Milwaukee Brewers.
Yes, I'm a Twins fan first, but since I'm back in the land of cheese and beer, and the Brew Crew have always been dear to my heart, I have started up a snarky Brewers blog called:
Go ahead, I dare you to click.
Many moons ago, I wrote a fairly popular Twins blog with a buddy of mine called "The Baseball Boys". Our site even got written up in Minneapolis Star Tribune with some other Twins bloggers.
Now, I am going to attempt to tackle a whole new beast: The Milwaukee Brewers.
Yes, I'm a Twins fan first, but since I'm back in the land of cheese and beer, and the Brew Crew have always been dear to my heart, I have started up a snarky Brewers blog called:
Go ahead, I dare you to click.
posted by Heavy Critters at 9:33 AM
3 Comments:
Go Cubs!
The Brewers? Really? Hmmmm....Well, It's still baseball, so Go BeeP Go!
BTW, I saw a blurb on the news about Greyhound spiffing up their image with new uniforms provided by G&K....did you have something to do with that? AND...I am still sending a surprise your way in the next few days....be very afraid.
post this on your blog...
Get the call this afternoon, "Pete, got extra tix to the opener vs. Baltimore can you go?" Me: "Yup" Caveat--have to pick up his boy from daycare. Cool, I'll bring my little guy.
The plan: Have Mrs. Rack drive us to the shithole, I mean Metrodome, pick up Tommy on the way, ride back with buddy who works downtown. ATM it up to spring for dome chow.
Wait outside the dome for buddy. Boys play tag in and out of fans, the body painters are already hammered and touching up their chest letters while trying to stand up and not spill beer. I suggest that they paint Mauer chops in blue on their sideburns. Haha--they do it. Gonna be a rowdy one...
Herb Carneal passed away yesterday at 83. I remember listening to his Twins broadcasts as a kid on 'CCO, which btw can be picked up in Kansas on a good night...
First order of business: Pay respects to Herb. Short video with audio clips of some Twins days of glory. Goosebumps as he announces both WS wins. Cheers & silence for Herb. Loved your voice & play by, sir. You knew how to stfu and let the game happen, accenting the game & letting us hear the crack of the bat over the airwaves. RIP.
Sellout crowd, energy is high, all the chicks are sporting Mauer shirts and autographs. Dude's got mojo.
End of the first, I go to load up on chow. They aren't paying enough to the food vendors--wait an entire half inning (I'm third in line) and watch Santana pick off Tejada at first--woot, Twins up and two-pitch, back-to-back homers while I'm standing in line cause they ran out of nachos. Woman behind me is waiting to turn in her hotdog bun for one with a hotdog in it. wtf??? The game is happnin' & I'm stuck in line watching moronic posters (hi tony:cool:) try and figure out how to make change & fill beer cups. Now I'm throwing out some exclamations..."Yo--two homers now, let's step it up." and "C'mon dude." Kid's in pain--he knows his situation is f'ed up. Anyhow we're all cool, I'm chatting with the two high school Mauer lovers in front of me, telling them how I shaved my Mauer chops just before the game. They're like, "You should have left them--they'd be hot." (note to self: don't shave chops pre-game). I didn't blow it by taking off my ball cap and blinding them with my bald scalp. It's a good Karma inning for rackyboy. Girls get their dogs, I whisper loudly, "Better check to make sure the dogs are in the buns..." We're all laughing, even the dude in vendor hell.
Get back to seats, my boys are all like, "wtf?" I 'splain the situation, and we make a deal that if the Twinks need help, I gotta go stand in line again.
Top of the third. First of about soon to be a total of eight, count 'em eight, fans within a flip to from short to third, get kicked out--in our section alone. Old guy is shushing everyone and has his arms out flying like a bird trying to stay vertical. Three security agents negotiate a peaceful exit trailed by his crew. I'm guessing by the end of the night they had to eject a hundred or so out of 40K+.
Twins are spankin the ball but the birds keep within a couple--good game so far. People high-fiving good plays, an awesome diving catch by White in LF, some sweet ball being played.
Temp starts to rise in the dome. First of many beachballs make an appearance. People are batting them around and we happen to be in a huge section so the rent-a-cops are all in a tizzy trying to hatch a plan to stop the dreaded beachballs. Keystone Kops at work. Entire dome is involved until finally one dork with a badge tackles the ball and the dome erupts in boos. Players are looking up to see wtf.
The mild-mannered ballgame is turning into Woodstock. More beachballs, but by this time there are too many drunks to deal with so for the next four innings they parade one intoxicated frat boy after another, up the steps to the netherworld. One dude comes up soaked head to toe dripping wet. wtf? I am highly entertained right now and this is fast becoming my favorite baseball experience of all time--World Series' included.
Twins are kicking ass, the boys are having a good time, I'm grinning from ear to ear waiting for the next act. No disappointments.
Top of the eighth. Time for a fan escapade on-field. WooooHooo. I jump up screaming, "YEAHHHHHHH!!!!!" as another drunk college dude runs out on the field and gets chased by a swat team of overweight douchebags. Play ceases, the dome has erupted in Libertine Chaos and everyone is wondering how many tasers this guy's gonna get. He puts on a spectacular show and winds up in centerfield dekeing out the fatboys with badges, ends up getting piled on and marched out. Place fuckin' erupts.
Ninth inning, they march up an old lady (had to be at least 80). Turns out she just needed assistance but by this time they've kicked out so many people, all the fans in the aisles are laughing at the cop as if he's ejecting her from the stadium. Hilarious.
Another beachball session, the cops are just trying to get through this game, knowing they have about a hundred more--haha. They give up on the beach balls, wave starts up (have they executed the dude that invented it yet?) but the place is like a rock concert now and everybody participates except the season tix holders between third & first. (Question: why does the wave go counter clockwise? I think I actually know this answer to be revealed later).
Top of the 9th, 2 down, finally get the final out, place erupts, as they should--fukingruvin game & highly charged & entertaining.
On the way out I ask a security guy what the bill is for running on the field. "A night in jail & $750 bucks." Holy shit. Note to self: Try to remember this next time the thought enters that it would be a hoot to make a ruckus at a ballgame and run around out there...
Get home in time to watch the last gasps of March Madness.
Groovy night. Score: Twins 7, Baltimore 4, Rackpirate 100, Rent-a-cops -5, On Field Bladerunner 750 but -750 in $$ & -500 for jail time so -500 net, Metrodome 10 for hosting, Body Painters 25 (prolly got kicked out), Ejectees 5 for fightin'.
Oh, and the wave goes counter-clockwise 'cause that's how the players run around the bases. (at least that's my theory and I'm not gonna argue about it).
Colin Powell can SMD. Had to pass this on. Can't say I'll ever have this much fun at a baseball game in the shithole dome again. So I'm gonna declare this Rackpirate's Game of the Year. It's another Snapper Mow-'Em-Down Inning. VROOOOM VROOOOM!!!!!!!
Only thing missing was KINGSMAK. He'd know what to do...
Sayonara sportsfans.
Post a Comment
<< Home