Gooooooooood old Milwaukee, eh.
Nowhere will you go and realize, "Hey, are they really this big jerks back home?"
Like I've been saying all along, nothing beats the atmosphere of baseball in the States, where stadiums are theme parks and hot dogs and beer at each venue are nothing less than necessity.
Everytime I wandered around Miller Park I felt as if someone would come up to me and ask to see my ticket, to make sure I wasn't in the wrong spot.
Yet, every time, every attendant just smiled. Except for one fan who was freaking out because his kid went into the washroom without him.
Even when we headed out to "downtown" Milwaukee later that night, each cab driver took five and six passengers, while in college all I heard was cab drivers honking their horns, telling us they could get fined if they were over the passenger limit.
And when a drunk kid peed on the back of a cab at 2 in the morning, and the cops passed by and turned on their lights, all they said over the microphone was, "Nobody wants to see you rock out with your cock out."
It wasn't until we raided the pool at the hotel later that night and kept our neighbours up until 4 a.m. that we "seriously" saw any kind of opposition to our actions.
It was certainly a nice break to have, since I was so "tired" from the late night in Chicago the night before.
Okay, for my next point, I gotta say: how exciting to watch are Ryan Braun and Prince Fielder? I don't really care who his dad was, Prince puts the juice (I mean orange juice, not horse tranq) into each swing, so much so that his homer in the fifth (or sixth, or whatever, like I was paying attention) hit the middle of the scoreboard. And Braun's swing was so smooth that it made Daly's John Olerud jersey look like it wasn't old school. Together, they make you realize that there's nothing in sports like an exciting tag team (don't think dirty thoughts), especially one that an entire city and state can rally around. After all, they need it with Brett Favre's latest self-ruining odyssey.
Take note, too, Vince Young.
Both Bruan and Prince hit dingies, but the Brew still short to the Astros, losing 8-5.
Also, a final thought that came up during the day was, "Girls who like baseball... so hot." It means you're smart, you're grounded, you can properly wear a hat, you can eat a beer and a dog, I can walk around with a mustard stain, and you can have a good time. Unlike her.
Until tomorrow...
P.S. I didn't see one real cheese shop in Wisconsin.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment