Quick Thoughts : NLDS Game One
Dear Saint Louis,
It's October. There is no need for the temperature to be in the upper-80's. Good Lord, I did some sweating yesterday.
Sweaty fat guy
Yesterday was probably the worst performance I have seen by the vendors at Busch Stadium. They've been dealing with sellouts all year, right? They know how to handle bunches of people. Then why, on a day when everyone is pumped up to be at the Stadium, with the temperatures in the upper-80's, am I not seeing a beer man for innings at a time?
Perhaps with all of Sunday's festivities some of the Busch employees thought they had already attended their final game at Busch and did not feel the need to show up to work.
Three vendor lowlights:
- After not seeing a beer man for about half-an-hour, Roommate Matt and I wondered off to the nearest beer stand to get some suds, and had to wait through an entire inning while the dude was pouring beers for eight people. Speed up!
- A vendor carrying 2 warm bottle of Sprite and three bags of peanuts and mumbling "soda...um...peanuts" to himself as he wandered aimlessly around Busch.
- Jason Isringhausen. What's that? He's not a vendor? Well he sure as shit pitched like it.
Since Roommate Matt and I were going to the game, and hence, not working on Tuesday, Monday night we went out and did some drinking. (Did you know that I drink? I can't remember if I had mentioned that before.) We ended up doing some serious damage to our respective livers. Big time.
As we sat around the bar, watching football and drinking pitchers, we started doing some friendly wagering. One of the categories was "First Curtain Call at Busch this Post Season."
I went out on a limb and said "Reggie Sanders after hitting a home run in the fifth inning tomorrow." Maybe it was the three pitchers of Budweiser talking, or maybe it was the Jack and Diet's...but I had a hunch. A drunken hunch, maybe, but a hunch, nonetheless.
Fast forward 14 hours, it's the bottom of the fifth, and Reggie's up with the bases loaded. On a 3-0 count...TLR gives him the green light...and he hits a booming shot to left field!
Get Up Baby! GET UP!! GETUPGETUPGETUPGETUP!!!!!! GONE!!! GRAND SLAM!!!
And viola, I made the coolest prediction of all time. (In fairness, it makes up for earlier this week when I made the lamest and most incorrect prediction in history.)
A few hours after the game, The Lady Friend and I went and had some dinner in the Loop and then went down to The Pageant for a lovely and intimate evening with Doves (many thanks for the tix, Dana and Jan.)
Unfortunately, as my big day wound down, I hit the proverbial wall. Sometime during the fifth or sixth song of the night, I drifted off to sleep. When I realized that the concert I was viewing could not possibly be real (there was a beagle playing drums) I snapped out of it and TLF and I hazily made our way home.
"Too much for a Tuesday?" you ask.
"Perhaps," I respond. "Perhaps."
Mark Mulder v. Pedro Astacio tomorrow afternoon. While that match-up hardly seems fair, I'll wait until post-game for comments.
UPDATE (10/6, Pregame)
I found out why the Busch Stadium Vendors got so damn lazy (read: cocky): Fame
Also, there is a fabulous read about the man, the myth, the legend that is Mr. Ernie Hays over at the RFT (via Cardnilly) That man not only tickles the ivories, it apperas that he likes to be tickled as well.