What on Earth have we done?

This past weekend turned out to be every bit the extravaganza we thought it would be:

12 frat brothers, Boggs Lites, morning golf, evening bars, and a baseball game featuring $6.75 beers and 

a friend with a breathalyzer.  Needless to say, the shit was on for two great days and I am tapping into my brain to construct a retro diary of the events of the weekend.  Try and follow along.

Friday -

For the most part the group was kicking it on the far west side of Cleveland at la casa de D-Minus in North Ridgeville.  If you don't know where North Ridgeville is, don't worry, North Ridgeville doesn't know where it is either.  As a matter of fact, the drive out there is a little eerie at night and frankly it felt like being trapped in a Stephen King book.  After fending off the guy from Jeepers Creepers and two of the mutants from The Hills Have Eyes, I found my way to Dennis' development/sports complex (I'm not joking and I'm still salty we never hit the batting cages) the group of us then cracked a few Boggs Lites and took over the back patio of Dennis' house and began to podcast.

The group of us consisted of the usual hosts of the podcast and creators of the blog, Dennis and Pagel.  Joining us were some old faces from years past, Scott drove up from Kentucky and escaped his wife for an entire weekend to get back to his roots; violating young men.  Driving up from Cincy for the weekend to make our Friday night podcast were Hyden and Butters.  They're two of the funniest guys you'll ever meet.  Hyden invented dry humor and physical displays of sarcasm and Butters stars in a weekly cartoon on Comedy Central.  Seriously. 

One of the joys of podcasting is the kind of stress relief it offers.  It's therapeutic to be able to

 share your thoughts with literally handfuls of people you already know.  One of the nightmares of podcasting is not being able to control anyone's mouth except your own.  The first episode we produced was quite the mishmash of random topics and sidebars while trying to stick to a Cincinnati-Cleveland based discussion.  It was such a cluster fuck it turned into two episodes.  

One good thing about this podcast, besides the witty banter and making fun of old friends, was stomping Dennis in a trivia showdown!  In what had to be the world's most poorly constructed trivia challenge (Thanks Eric!) I clobbered Dennis by the final score of 2-1.  It was quite the barn burner.  Perhaps if there was one question in the only two categories created that either of us could have answered without the help of the Schwab, the score would have been better.  None the less, I nailed the tie breaking question for a win for the ages.  Suck it Ken Jennings!  My reward?  Dennis had to wear one of my stupid trucker hats golfing the next morning. 

Saturday -

There was an old joke in our fraternity about when to start an event.  You want us there by 8:30am?  Better tell us 7:45am or else we'll be there around 9:00am.  I drive my ass from the east side of Cleveland back to the far west side and past Ned Beatty getting raped in the woods to make it our 8:40 tee time and meet our other buddy Joe Watson in the golf course parking lot around 8:25 in the morning.  However, turns out we were about 25 minutes early since tee times are malleable and all and the rest of the group decided to get breakfast and miss both of our tee times.  

The entire time we were waiting, the 80 year old tee master kept badgering us with questions about when everyone was going to arrive.  Don't you think if I knew that information I would give it to you?  No, I don't want to golf ahead without 2/3 of the people we were supposed to be with, how much sense does that make?  

Also, random sidebar about golf:  Why do people put so much pressure on themselves during a leisure sport activity?  If it's supposed to be fun, why do golfers go out and spend thousands of dollars on clubs, spikes, balls, clothing, and rounds of golf.  It sounds more like a habit than a hobby.  Golf is the smoking of sports.  

After the group arrived I forced the hat upon Dennis and he actually wore it the entire time.  I was proud of him and the hat.

Mostly the hat.  Okay, I was only proud of the hat.  What ensued was some of the best golf I've seen up close.  Unfortunately I was with Scott and we weren't the ones producing the excellent shots.  I will say that Scott and I got our money's worth if you broke down the cost on a dollar to swing ratio.  Also we got to see parts of the course no one else has seen before.  

It was a fun morning despite losing 12 dollars worth of balls to either toxic ponds or lush foliage.  After the half round of golf (too bad we weren't playing 18, I was just starting to get good!) we reconvened in the NR to begin another intense podcasting session.  This time the brain gangbang went 7 deep as our buddy Matt drove in from Springfield, Mass for the weekend.  Matt is like the bastard child of Lewis Black and Chris Noth.  Never has an unhappier and more pessimistic person managed a major theme park.

After a grub out session, it was on to round two of podcasting.  The topics from this two part podcast vary and are generally offensive.  We even stopped to comment on the jerk bag riding by on a hand cycle...but we produced a pair of awesome podcasts that are more than worth the time.

After Denny's place, we went to meet up with more of our friends at the Indians-Reds game.  The Battle of Ohio!  Who gets control of our dying economy and poor school system?!  The winner of the Reds-Tribe series, that's who!  It was a typical scenario for frat guys at a baseball game: beers, dogs, pizza, and making fun of the countless busted chicks patrolling the bar in the centerfield concourse.  C'mon Cleveland women, you look like shit and you're embarrassing me in front of my friends from Cincinnati.  When someone from the home of Skyline Chili thinks you're fat and busted, it's time to hit the treadmill and stop drinking for a month or two.  Just saying.  

The next two hours consisted of me ignoring baseball in favor of paying attention to this drunk wad a few sections over.  You know that buddy who gets smashed drunk early on during a friday night out?  It's happy hour and he's already blown his load?  That guy made an appearance in Progressive Field and like the drunk happy hour guy, I'm sure his friends ditched him and left. 

I mean there was no one backing this guy up.  He would sit and yell things at random, put his sunglasses on, take them off, then put them back on upside down.  He would hug random Indians fans then swear at 12 year old kids.  At one point he was wearing an Indians hat that he found somewhere and tried to get the Cincy people around him to start a defense chant.  Yeah, needless to say we found our mark for the night.  

Sidebar:  They had a dance contest on the scoreboard jumbo tron, and this ginger won by basically only dancing with his shoulders.  I can't do the moves justice in print also, I can't explain to you how thrilled I was seeing the beauty of dance ruined on a 50 foot screen.  

One more sidebar:  The ketchup, onion, and mustard races at the Pro are fucking great.  Slider and some dude close-lined mustard, it was fantastic.  

The Indians were busy crapping on the field but we were busy crapping on this drunk fuck.  The stadium usher came down several times to warn him about his behavior except that no one in the stadium would have taken a 16 year old usher with a speech impediment and self-esteem issues seriously.  Eventually some other Cincy folk jumped in to try and get his back.  The one dude looked like a very surprised Slavic immigrant; a huge thick unibrow that was constantly raised up his giant forehead like he was impressed by something.  Also, he looked like he smelled.  Apparently Slobodan Milosevic likes the Reds too.

Despite the Reds ultimate victory over the weekend and the brief amount of time everyone was together, I must say Cleveland is always refreshing during the summer.  Next time though, I'll snap a few pics of the guy shoulder dancing.

-Pagel