my beloved new york mets appear to be on a genuine tear.
and if that wasn't enough, it appears that they are actually going to get a new stadium.
hopefully, this will involve a thorough scrubbing and vetting of the concession stands high in the shitty seats.
i only bring this up because this week marks the 19th anniversary of what could be the single most disgusting baseball related vomiting in which i have ever had the misfortune to be involved.
i was in 10th grade. it was a lovely late april night at shea. my friends ken, ludmud and i scalped seats in the upper boxes, smack dab between the plate and first base. if i remember correctly, the mets were playing the hated atlanta braves. darryl strawberry and kevin mcreynolds hit titanic back to back home runs in the first inning. i celebrated by buying the biggest rc cola that the stout woman behind the counter would sell me.
upon returning to my seat, before my first sip of this massive drink, i peered through the saran wrappish plastic they used to put over the tops of the cups for some reason, and noticed that there, on the surface of my soda, was sort of a rainbowy looking slick - the kind you might see in the street after a car pulls away from the curb just after a rain or something.
"does this look funny to you?" i asked my boys. they nodded to the affirmative.
regardless, i took a pull on the straw and my mouth was immediately assaulted by a horrible, metallic, absolutely disgusting dirty taste. kind of like if you had a big fizzy glass of water filled to the top with pennies you found in a garbage can.
"uch!" i exclaimed. "this tastes terrible. taste this and tell me if it's just me."
ken took a sip and made a face like someone had waved an alcoholic monkey's diaper under his nose.
"holy shit! that's awful!" he said.
"i know!" i replied. "there's something wrong here."
and then, stupidly, i took sip number two, shaking my head in disbelief as the flavor filled my mouth. and then i took sip number three, still shaking my head. followed by sip number four and sip number five and sip number six, shaking my head in disbelief the entire time.
i think it was somewhere around sip fourteen or fifteen when my stomach lurched and made a noise i have since only heard in the subways. and, coincidentally, this noise production happened at precisely the moment i noticed the three or four stubbed out cigarettes underneath the slowly melting ice cubes at the bottom of my huge, sweaty paper cup.
what happened next was loud, violent, smelly and quite voluminous.
(think young master davy hogan from "stand by me")
ever since that day, i have made beer my official ballpark beverage of choice.
and it hasn't failed me yet.
and if that wasn't enough, it appears that they are actually going to get a new stadium.
hopefully, this will involve a thorough scrubbing and vetting of the concession stands high in the shitty seats.
i only bring this up because this week marks the 19th anniversary of what could be the single most disgusting baseball related vomiting in which i have ever had the misfortune to be involved.
i was in 10th grade. it was a lovely late april night at shea. my friends ken, ludmud and i scalped seats in the upper boxes, smack dab between the plate and first base. if i remember correctly, the mets were playing the hated atlanta braves. darryl strawberry and kevin mcreynolds hit titanic back to back home runs in the first inning. i celebrated by buying the biggest rc cola that the stout woman behind the counter would sell me.
upon returning to my seat, before my first sip of this massive drink, i peered through the saran wrappish plastic they used to put over the tops of the cups for some reason, and noticed that there, on the surface of my soda, was sort of a rainbowy looking slick - the kind you might see in the street after a car pulls away from the curb just after a rain or something.
"does this look funny to you?" i asked my boys. they nodded to the affirmative.
regardless, i took a pull on the straw and my mouth was immediately assaulted by a horrible, metallic, absolutely disgusting dirty taste. kind of like if you had a big fizzy glass of water filled to the top with pennies you found in a garbage can.
"uch!" i exclaimed. "this tastes terrible. taste this and tell me if it's just me."
ken took a sip and made a face like someone had waved an alcoholic monkey's diaper under his nose.
"holy shit! that's awful!" he said.
"i know!" i replied. "there's something wrong here."
and then, stupidly, i took sip number two, shaking my head in disbelief as the flavor filled my mouth. and then i took sip number three, still shaking my head. followed by sip number four and sip number five and sip number six, shaking my head in disbelief the entire time.
i think it was somewhere around sip fourteen or fifteen when my stomach lurched and made a noise i have since only heard in the subways. and, coincidentally, this noise production happened at precisely the moment i noticed the three or four stubbed out cigarettes underneath the slowly melting ice cubes at the bottom of my huge, sweaty paper cup.
what happened next was loud, violent, smelly and quite voluminous.
(think young master davy hogan from "stand by me")
ever since that day, i have made beer my official ballpark beverage of choice.
and it hasn't failed me yet.
-----
(update - 8:24 am 4/27...because i'm anal about being accurate, i went and looked up specifics about this game this morning. it actually occurred on 4/10/87 and the homeruns were in the 4th inning. so now you know, y'all.)
3 comments:
I had the same thing happen to me at about age 7. My family was at the neighbors pool party and my friends and I were sneaking around drinking the beer "soldiers".
From your story you should know how this ends... cigarettes in the beer can. Vomiting, in the POOL!
That's probably why I don't like beer unless it's super light in color and in a bottle or a glass!
I had a "well I think we all learned something today" moment when reading today's posting.
1. Whoa, 19 years since the 10th grade for me too. Sheesh.
2. I knew it. NOBODY likes the Braves. NOBODY! They were also the Astros' worst enemy throughout the 90's. And while I'm not the biggest Mets fan (1986, I'm looking at you) I can never get behind the Yankees. Go Mets.
3. Try to always have your drink in a clear glass/cup. Cigarette butts sink, but you'll still see them with a clear glass. We smoked a lot in college, we drank a lot in college...all the money spent on advanced learnin' and this was my most valuable lesson.
proud to say i remember this.
Boog's BBQ: Camden Yards
Old Style: Wrigley Field
RC Cola: Shea Stadium
Post a Comment