Let me preface this story by quickly explaining that I am a huge Sox fan, but I am not the stereotypical "just out of college" baseball guy. I refuse to do the wave, I don't yell "Yankees Suck" at BC football games, I am not obnoxious, usually I just blend into the crowd. But I love to drink beer, especially at Red Sox games, and I don't care that beers cost 7 dollars a cup, I will just cut food out so that I can enjoy my suds at the game. Just like Sh!tshow likes to gamble, GHABBY! his porn, and Future likes her young athletes, I am a beer person. Jesus, I sound like an alcoholic.
Thank Christ I was under cover at this game because it rained, and it rained for quite a long time. I was tired, I had a long day at work, which ended with me getting my ass handed to me by my boss because I forgot an important deadline. After driving to the game with SmartyBarrett from (ejectedfan.blogspot.com) the rain just picked up and the tarp stayed on the field. Fenway decided to pump in club music and show the Yankees game as we sat over by Pesky's Pole. Plus to make it worse sitting right in front of us was this annoying bitch who decided to screech along to Rhianna, Aerosmith and every other song that was pumped in. This girl knew the words to EVERY song, and her sharply dressed small dick boyfriend just let her do it. Fuck you and your stupid peacoat, control your woman. Every new song made this girl excited, and I swear she kept turning around just to look at my horrified face as she sang. Plus to make things worse they showed the end of the Celtics game which made me even more depressed. As you can probably tell by the tone of this post I was getting really pissed of, so fuck it, the Siren call of Budweiser was beckoning maybe that would make this rain delay go by faster. It was so cold out, that the beer made my hand shake and I spilled some of it on myself which was also worsened by the asshole in the line who walked into me and soaked my Beckett jersey with beer. Mmm the beer was tasty, after the shitty week I had at work I deserved this, plus it helped me ignore the girl in fornt of me. Finally the game started, which was a good and bad thing, good because it actually started, bad because it started at quarter of 10. After two more beers I grew tired of the game (which may or may not align with the time they shut off the beer), SmartyBarrett decided we should hit up the Cask. A few beers with some other friends, we watched the game on TV, and we headed home, Smarty thank god did not drink much and drove my car home. I left Cask smelling of stale beer and exhausted.
Drink Count for the Night: 6 Beers
After a refreshing night of sleeping off the night before, I got a phone call from DubbSchism (from ejected fan) who had an extra ticket for the game. What the fuck I had nothing else to do, they were cheap bleachers seats lets do it. Smarty was going to the game with someone else, but he volunteered to drive. We got to the game early and hit up a bar near Fenway, where I had to overpay to get a cold BlueMoon, mmm it was delicious though, I love that oranges go well with a beer. After a phone call, we headed over to Who's on First where I met up with Dubb and The Ejected Fan and had a beer as we talked about blogs, which was very pathetic and I am sure it worked like a chick repellent. We headed over to our seats and I grabbed a few beers on the way to bring up to the seats. The game had already started and it was the second inning before I got in my seat. I can already hear it "HazelMaesLandingStrip you are a shitty fan, you should be in your seat before the game starts" Yea, yea, I go to enough games, I don't fucking care if I miss an inning or two. Shove it.
As the game continued I downed another two beers which made me really chatty with the people sitting next to me, they must have been thoroughly annoyed by me but I had no clue. The Fenway Bleacher creatures had brought a blow up doll to the game, and the Ejected Fan grabbed it to write our blog address on it, FREE PUBLICITY BABY! After waundering from the Bleachers to Loge Box seats behind home plate we were rejected by the rightful seats owners, and trekked all the way back to the bleachers. Waste of a whole inning. By the start of the seventh inning I realized the guys sitting in front of me were compulsive gamblers, they had an elaborate bet going on(in my inebriated mind it seemed hard). There were 5 guys and one guy held the money, at the end of a half inning if the ball landed on the mound they would pass the money left, at the end of the game the money belonged to whoever held it last. Blew my mind. Well, my friends and I decided to come up with our own wager. Whatever Red Sox player got to the dugout last after the Rays hit, the person who guessed that player would win. Dubb had Jacoby, Ejected Fan had Mike Lowell, and I decided on Manny. I figure Manny is slow, and doesn't run a hell of alot, this was going to be an easy win. Well as they jogged in Manny decided to slow down to chat with Jacoby, "Shit" I might lose, they got close to the dugout when what I can only say was a divine act of God, Jacoby sprinted away from Manny. The $3 dollars was mine!
The game wound down, and again I decided to head out early to hit up another bar. The Sox were up by alot and I wanted to continue drinking. Well, I found a Karaoke bar, one that I hit up frequently, drained a Red Headed Slut, and three more beers. I did a rendition of "Welcome to Atlanta" which I changed to "Welcome to Waltham" and a version of "Aint Nuthin but a G Thang". Taunt me all you want, I am a nasty rapper, and have won a karaoke competition before, and in my mind the audience loved me.
Well by the end of the night, I had written "masshysteriasports.com" on numerous karaoke slips and bar napkins and had the mic shut off when I wouldn't stop screaming "MASS HYSTERIA DOT COM" to the crowd who all I'm sure enjoyed my antics. Umm then I got home somehow.
Drink Count for the Night: 10 Beers and One Shot
There was no way I was going to drink again at this game after how wrecked I had gotten the night before. My eyes were killing me, my mouth tasted like shit and my stomach was screaming for mercy. But other stories must be told, oh they must be told. I went to the game today with MsHazelMaesLandingStrip, a frequent reader of this blog who spends a lot of her time doing work for her doctorate and somehow only getting like four hours of sleep a night. What she does I will never do, I am far far too lazy and unmotivated. Well finals is coming around for her, and she made the difficult choice of turning in a project late to go to the Sox game. She was very stressed, and was teetering on a complete meltdown as we took separate cars to the game (in case there was a delay she might need to leave early). Well being hung over as I was, I got pissed off that she got lost going to the game, she called asking for directions and being the surly prick I am I gave her crap for it. We found parking and I beckoned her to park behind me, which she interpreted as go ahead of me, which made me even more pissed (logic was way out the window for me now). I yelled at her to park her car behind me, and what happened next was epic. She got out of her car gave me the finger and just came after me. I thought it was a joke at first, but when I blocked the first punch I realized this was no joke. She looked like she was going to murder me and I am immediately went into survival mode. My other friends looked on in horror as she threw and landed four hard punches to my arm and side and then stormed away in a hurry. I didn't know what to do, do I fight back against a girl? No, of course not, I did what any man would do, I threw my keys as hard I could in the vicinity of her. I wasn't even close but hey it felt good. The game happened and we won again, I stayed sober and didn't touch a lick of beer, mainly in fear that any alcohol would slow down my reaction speed if my girlfriend decided to attack me again.
Drink Count: 0 (One bruised arm/ego)
Now that is a weekend, my internet friends...