July 20, 2006

You had to go and say something stupid...

Today begins the next step in the tournament trail for the little one's baseball team -- The Ohio Valley Regional. If we win this won we are off to the World Series.

Posting will be light, my attentions focus elsewhere, vacation through Monday.

Alli left a comment that reminded me of one of the craziest stunts I have ever pulled. A bunch of were sitting around playing Euchre. Like guys do, a challenge was issued, the bet was on. We were going to join the century club.

This drinking game involves drinking a shot a beer a minute for 100 minutes. EVERY minute. It does not seem like much -- 100 ounces -- about 8 beers. I drank way more than that on a regular basis. I just did not do it in an hour and a half.

We headed off to the liquor store on Friday night to get our beer of choice. Always hovering on financial insolvency I went for what was on sale, Blatz. It was cheap and it was advertised as a "light" beer.

The evening went well. I remember eating an apple around number 50. Number 75 found the beer still going down smoothly, with just a buzz. Around number 85 things got tough. It is hard to drink your shot, go to the head and get back by the bell. I was starting to feel a little sick, and bloated, and well -- drunk, by number ninety. Things were a little fuzzy by now, one guy had dropped out some time ago, just three of us still toed the mark as the (sober) timekeeper called drink at number 100. One of the many observers decided we would just be pussies to quit now. Someone suggested we had better keep going in case the time or the count was wrong. We were just drunk enough to agree. I think my buddy Gary and I tacitly agreed to quit around 117 shots in 117 minutes. I am told my Irish buddy Burk hit 130 before he fell out of his chair.

This night was one of the few in my life where I was walking and talking and moving about in a complete alcohol fog. I have little recollection of the events latter in the evening. I guess I carried on conversations and posed for pictures.

The next morning as we cleaned the detrius of the party, a wise guy pointed out something that was apparent to the casual drinkers and observers of the contest -- we were using jiggers (1-1/2 oz)instead of shot glasses (1 oz) in our quest to achieve drinking immortality. Yes, readers I am a member of the Century Club Plus. It is a wonder we did not end up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning.

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