Over the last couple of days, I’ve ushered more crap through my system than I thought possible. First up was Tuesday nights Orioles game against the Blue Jays of Toronto (aka Trawna, aka the “T Dot”) with the FPG’s office. The limo/bus from downtown started off well enough but turned into an absolute show when the driver couldn’t figure out that we were going to a baseball game at Camden Yards and not a football game at Raven’s Stadium. So we walked from one stadium to the other.
The skyboxes at Camden Yards are pretty darn nice, about on par with FedEx field. The best feature is that the outside seats aren’t stadium seats but 5-wheeled office jobs that you can orient as needs dictate. We started off several Bass Ales and a delicious seven layer dip, followed by chicken wings. The main course was more Bass, accompanied by bacon cheeseburgers and ballpark red hots. I loves me some red hots. A third course consisted of yet more Bass, chili-filled potato skins, onion rings and mozzarella sticks. Finally, a shift to Yuengling and cookies rounded out the feeding.
The game? It sucked. The O’s starting pitcher gave up six earned runs in the first two innings, and his replacements weren’t much better. Frank Thomas lit them up for a dinger and about two dozen RBI. I’m not an O’s fan at all (I’m a life long Mets fan), but it’s nice to see the home team at least put up a game. Oh well.
Wednesday was the Miller and Long Golf outing at Whiskey Creek GC in Ijamsville, MD – right near where the cross race is this weekend. We showed up at around 8:30 with just enough time for some quick feed (being a bit hungover, I skipped the first round at the bloody mary cart, which was probably an error in judgment). Best ball tourneys kind of suck because you have no real gauge on how you played. Not having swung a golf club in well over a year, this was actually probably a good thing, but I did get off to a ripping start. We played all my shots on the first hole for a par, then played my first 3 shots on the second, then used all of them on the third for another par. After that, the Yuenglings were too frosty and delicious and my swing became quite a bit more erratic. We used more of my shots but not many. Lunch was a delicious repast of brats and burgers. I freaking love bratwurst. Maybe I should move to Wisconsin. Everyone in the room except me won something in the raffle – I NEVER win raffle prizes, and then it was time to go home for the last leg of my whirlwind.
The 4-5 team met up at the Dubliner for some burgers and beers, and to discuss getting out act together a little more tightly than we had it last year. We came to several resolutions, perhaps the most important of which was that we should have meetings at locations with cheaper beers. Feeling as I do this morning, I may have to reconsider that finding. Ain’t the off season grand?
Register yo-sef for the damn Sander Race, fool. I have to get up at freaking oh dark thirty on Sunday morning to get there and run registration. The last thing I want to do is a bunch of race day registrations when it all could have been done so easily if everyone had pre-registered. The weather looks beautiful for Sunday, everything is all set to go, so just go to BikeReg and type in your name and stuff and we’ll be all set. M’kay?