Being a Met fan I’ve tasted my share of disappointment and heartache at the hands of the Atlanta Braves, but nothing irks me as much as that insipid “Tomahawk” chop they perform by mimicking an ax motion with their arms to the beat of a Seminole war drum. It makes me wish that a tribe of Seminole warriors would rise up from hiding in the upper decks of Turner Field and rain down a barrage of arrows and slings into the fans. If nothing else it would certainly stop them from doing things that Mets fans have tried and failed at. Specifically I’m speaking of sliding down stair and escalator rails. Last month a fan leaving a Mets game at Shea with his young daughters, decided it would be “funny” to ignore the sign on the down escalator that said “closed” and instead, slide down the railing. Yeah it was freakin’ hilarious as he slipped off and fell several stories to the concrete pavilion below and his death (which his young girls had to witness and will probably be haunted by for the rest of their lives.) Well rejoice, Brave Fan, because you proved yesterday you are just as stupid.
Today’s NY Daily News reports about Justin Hayes, a 25 year old who yesterday died when he fell several stories at Atlanta’s Turner Field while trying to “slide down a stairway railing.”
Lets see, what would inspire somebody to slide down the railings? Would it be such a love of adventure and “X-Games” that they see the railing and the potential danger a fall from said rail posses and say, “Damn the torpedoes…let’s get extreme!” (Harold and Kumar shout out!) Or can it be, possibly, maybe, perhaps, slightly, an outside chance of, an inkling of….BEER?! Even those of you who debase yourselves to read this site on a regular basis can answer that question. (For those of you who are first timers here…the answer is the latter!)
Perhaps these teams and ballpark operators might think about cutting down the amount (quantity) of beer served. They could start by limiting beer by age. The younger you are (above 21) the less beer you get. For example, a 25 year old, could only buy 2 10-oz beers at a time, while a 60 year old could buy 2 20-oz cups at once. This works kind of like car insurance. The younger you are the more you pay because you are more of a risk on the road and to your car. Further drawing this out, maybe you can get your hand stamped so that each beer you buy you get a stamp. Each person at the game (of age) gets up to 4 stamps, at which time they are cut off. I like to drink a beer as much as the next guy but even I can limit myself to a few brews for 9 innings. Just an idea.
L’orange, we hardly knew the. For those of you who have been keeping track, and I don’t know how if you haven’t been to our home, in which case why are you there when we’re at work, and if you were there when we were home, how come you didn’t knock and say hello….what kind of anti social SOB are you?? But I digress. L’orange is the name we bestowed upon a duck (mallard we think) who took up residence for her nest between the base of our house and the azalea bush in the flowerbed. There she laid an egg and has been nesting on it for the last month or so (actual gestation period is in the range of 20-30 days for ducks.) Alas upon leaving the house this morning, she was gone and in her next were the shell fragments from a cracked/hatched egg. We wish her and her new duckling well and may her next child be a masculine child. Or at least a really good omelet with a side of bacon.
How much do I love The Wife? I don’t believe there is an accurate number that can go large enough to properly show my affection. What other wife out there (or husband or even partner) would come home after a very long day outside enjoying the weather to say, “Gee Honey, why don’t we go to the race tonight and hand out Oreos and beer?”
