Baseball Outing

Dear Lisa,

I wanted to write you and thank you for the absolutely awesome outing at Miller Park on Saturday.

In order to fully enjoy the festivities in a manner I am accustomed to, I started my pre-game festivities at 1:00. Prior to this I had mowed the lawn and even brought out the trimmer to make the yard appealing to the small group that was to arrive at my house around 3:30. I had gotten up before 7:00 so by 1:00 I held a sense of accomplishment looking at the neatly manicured lawn. I popped open the cooler that was already filled with ice cold beer and caught the end of the Badgers game. My roommate was inside taking a nap (naughty puppy woke her up at 7:00 – after I tossed the puppy on her bed, he, he) so I really didn’t have much to do but watch some more college football that I really didn’t care about, all while getting my game face on.

People started to arrive right at 3:30. Being the gracious host I was handing out beer to everyone in a “one for you, two for me” fashion. I knew the time to leave was quickly approaching and after entering the park the free beer would be limited to two. Normally I don’t pound beer like Peter North pounds poon but the last thing I wanted to do was pay $7 for a beer. This was supposed to be a free trip and I sure as hell was going to try my best to keep it that way.

4:00 everyone got ready to leave for the park. I counted up my beer total: ten. Not that big of a deal considering twenty is like a normal night and I’d probably be nursing some warm beer at the park. I was right where I wanted to be.

I loaded the cooler in the back of my roommate’s car and we headed down the street in a four car train. We wanted to be able to park together so we could do a little tailgating before the game. Surprisingly this worked out pretty well and we were escorted in to spots right in a row. Oh, and thanks for the free parking pass. Sweet.

After we parked one thing became very apparent to me: these people didn’t know how to tailgate. No one else brought beer, chairs, or anything else for the parking lot. They all looked at me funny as I stood next to the car with a beer in my hand with this “are we going in yet?” look on their faces. Everyone else around us was grilling and drinking and playing various games in the aisles. I’ll admit it, I started to panic. I had a cooler full of beer and the group was looking anxious to get in the park. I did my best Peter North and pounded three in twenty minutes (three beers, not poons, although there were some lookers doing beer bongs not that far away from us). As the group started to head to the gates I grabbed three more cans and stuffed two of them in my shorts. Yes, they were cold and no, there wasn’t any shrinkage.

When we got to the reserved section you were the first to greet us. You human resource people get to do all the fun stuff like plan outings and fire people; I’m jealous. I was directed to where the food was and where to get the two beers with my ticket stub. I got the first beer and eyed up the variety of food that the little Asian people were bringing out (seriously, they all were slant-eyed, little odd). Sure, they had burgers, a great big ham that they were slicing, huge salad bar, but the thing that got my attention was the nacho station; more specifically, the great big dish of jalapeno peppers sitting right next to the cheese. You see, I love spicy food. I put a good six spoonfuls of jalapenos right on top of my nacho dish. They looked and smelled delicious. I brought them back to my table (which was another perk of the suite, tables with movable chairs and elbow room) and immediately went about devouring them. I don’t know why I like hot food so much because there’s always an immediate after effect. My head and face started sweating profusely. I went through four napkins trying to mop up. Here I was meeting new people every couple minutes and I looked like I had just jogged around the stadium. I finally got it under control and everything seemed ok.

I got a burger with my second beer. I’d tell you what inning it was but I don’t remember. I was having fun but it was a 0-0 game without much excitement. I finished the beer and asked my roommate for her ticket stub. I wasn’t sure if I could go back up and get two more beers with her ticket stub but I was sure as hell going to try. I went back to the same bartender and he quickly poured me two more. Ecstatic I left him a decent tip and returned to my seat. The beer was good, cold, and free. I could toss free flowing in there but you already knew that. And since I had more beer I figured I could use it to wash down another head-sweat-inducing plate of nachos with jalapenos.

What happened next, well, I’m not very proud of. You see, there were a lot of little kids running around; little kids with unstamped ticket stubs. Unstamped ticket stubs meant more free beer. I’m really, really not proud of what came next. At first I tried to secretly swap their ticket stubs with mine. I wouldn’t make it as a pickpocket; those little boogers and pretty quick. I needed to slow them down or stop them so… I started tripping the little bastards and swapping the ticket stubs. I’d get out of my seat and help them up, making sure they were ok while snatching the tickets out of their pockets. After the third one I didn’t even bother with anything other than the tickets. Kids are pretty resilient and they bounced back up pretty well. By this point I was getting a little sloppy. I had passed the twenty beer plateau and was teetering a bit on the edge. The eighth inning came up and I knew they stopped serving after it was over. I tried to get one more ticket stub to hold me over for the ninth inning. I stuck out my foot one more time, missed, readjusted and ended up flat out kicking the kid down. I felt bad about that one… till I had two more beers in my hands.

(I’m sorry.)

The next thing I remember was sitting on the shitter the next morning. (Seriously, I guess I had a fire in the fire pit and brought sleeping bags out to sleep outside but I don’t remember any of that.) Sitting of the can, man, it was like I could feel the jalapenos in my lower intestine, bowels, and lastly, the fiery anus. It hurt pushing it out but I knew it had to go. The second trip wasn’t much better but I could tell it had worked its way further down my system. Oh, and it smelled, bad.

Now, Lisa, I partly blame this on you. I know “human resources” doesn’t really involve the human anatomy but why would you list “human” in there if you didn’t know even a little something about “humans.” How could you, without any cautionary advice, allow me to eat all those jalapenos? I’m sure you knew what was going to happen the next day, especially because you work for a waste management company. WASTE MANAGEMENT! Two healthy helpings of spicy peppers, I’d think that would land somewhere near the top on the list of things that really need to be avoided when it comes to waste management. But no, you just laughed when you saw me sweating. Come to think of it, you were probably laughing at me because you knew I’d be moaning in pain the next morning. “Ha, ha, that fucker’s going to pay for it in the morning! Serves him right for tripping all those kids.” Well, if that’s the case, I guess I got what was coming to me.

At least the beer was free.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a good time at the outing. The whole thing was very entertaining and I got to see Ben Sheets pitch a complete game (and pick up the win). But hey, for the next event, could you do away with the two drink limit? Maybe then some innocent children wouldn’t have to run into any mishaps. Just a thought.

Thanks again.

B to the…