CHICKS DIG SCARS: A Weekend of Whoop Ass in Wisconsin!
I traveled to Burlington, Wisconsin on Friday, intending to see some old classmates for a informal class reunion at my high school’s Homecoming game (and more importantly, a group gathering at a local watering hole afterwards). Little did I know that I was stumbling into the state on a sports weekend of epic proportions. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit. No one won any championships or brought home any hardware, but it was a damn fine time to be among my sports loving Cheeseheads. Every victory took place IN the State of Wisconsin. Anyone want to hazard a guess as to how much beer and Johnsonville’s were consumed in the Dairy State alone, in two days? Holy cow. Wish I had had the foresight to buy some stock in the Miller Brewing Company last week. Plus, Mother Nature put away the clouds and the rain and blessed the state with beautiful fall weather for the entire weekend. Perfection.
Saturday afternoon the Brewers opened up the National League Divisional playoff series with a 4-1 win over the Arizona Diamondbacks at Miller Park. It was the perfect appetizer for things to come. I was in a bit of a pickle, however. It seems that the scheduling gods at ABC/ESPN decided that both football games that I wanted to see were “marquee” games that needed to be broadcast nationally at night. So, the Wisconsin-Nebraska game was on the mothership, ABC, and the Notre Dame-Purdue game was on ESPN, both at 7:00, Cheesehead time. Say what you want, Haters, but Notre Dame will always be a national draw, and you can keep trying to tell me how irrelevant we are and you’ll still be wrong, because the more you talk about how irrelevant ND is, the more relevant you make us by discussing it, so SUCK IT.
Anyway, we decided to have a gathering of old high school pals at a local sports bar/restaurant with enough TV’s to make everyone happy on Saturday. If 25 televisions are set to the Wisconsin game, they wouldn’t begrudge me a TV in the corner set to my game, now, would they? Luckily, our adorable little waitress could smell “big tip” (must have been the bar tab) and turned the flat screen above our heads to ESPN, while putting the Badgers and Huskers on all the rest, including the sound system throughout the restaurant, which also includes the bathrooms, in case someone scored a touchdown while you were squatting on the pot. God forbid you miss that. It was an enjoyable evening until short, little Cranky Pants with a Napoleon Complex sat in the booth next to us, sneering at the TV over our heads and said, “Why is THAT game on?” Hey, douchebag, turn around. There are at least 10 TVs in your line of vision and they all have the other game on. However, I didn’t cop an attitude with him (not yet, anyway). I said, as nicely as I could, “We requested this game on one TV.” That should have been the end of it, right? Of course not. The chicken shit little assmunch waited until I got up and went to the sound fortified bathroom, bypassed the waitress who knew why the ND game was on that TV, and asked a manager to change the channel. Oh, you messed with the wrong bitch, Napoleon. I noticed as soon as I exited the bathroom, and looked dead at him before I even sat down, knowing he was the one who’d done it. He was sitting in the booth facing the TV with a smug, self-satisfied look on his face. Long story short, after I made some smart assed comments, loud enough for the munchkin to hear (I’ll bet he drives a muscle car to make up for his shortcomings), we said something to Cute Blond Chippy the Waitress, who told the manager that we had asked and that we had a substantial bar tab, and she was probably going to be well compensated for that. The manager came and apologized and changed the TV. HAH. Just because I have boobs does not make me a pushover. Oh, and Cute Blond Chippy got a nice $40 tip, even if she was wearing a Pittsburgh Steeler jersey. It didn’t disgust me as much as the hostess who was wearing a Minnesota Viking jersey, though. Not just any jersey, mind you, but a Randy Moss jersey. At least the rest of the employees were decked out in Brewer or Packer swag. Oh, the games? Both blowouts by the good guys! I expected ND to beat Purdue handily, but I really wasn’t prepared for the Badgers to completely de-pants Nebraska and send their well-traveled fans on the long drive back to Huskerville. Welcome to the Big Ten……or Eleven….or Twelve. Or whatever they’re calling themselves, now. Oh, and as a footnote, how disgusting is it that Michigan gets away with not playing either of these teams?! Or the fact that they won’t even leave The Big Outhouse for an away game until mid-October? Don’t get me started on them. Really, just don’t.
Oh, by the way, Nebraska, it isn’t nice to damage property just because you’re pissy after getting your ass kicked. What did that paper towel dispenser ever do to you? Just sayin’.
So the score at the end of the day on Saturday? Wisconsin 2, Opponents 0
Sunday dawned as beautiful as Saturday, even though my head was a little fuzzy. Beer on Friday, wine on Saturday. Yeah, I’ll be slamming some Diet Pepsi today. The only bad thing about the day’s events was that the Brewers playoff game and the Packers football game were competing for attention on the remote.
Aaron Rodgers was surreal. For those of you who have already anointed Tommy Bunchen Brady as NFL MVP (ESPN, I’m looking at you) , Aaron Rodgers would like a word. He was insane. He score 69 points for my Fantasy Football team. Unfortunately, the rest of my team took the day off and I lost. How do you lose when ONE of your players scores 69 points on his own? I have no idea, but I managed it. Oh, and the aforementioned Mr. Bunchen didn’t help matters by forgetting Rob Gronkowski’s jersey number for a week. And I should have known better than to trust the Steelers defense. I just traded them for the 49ers. Buh-bye, Team Douchebag. I was just using you, anyway.
Following the complete and utter destruction of the Denver Broncos on Sunday, most of the clickers in Wisconsin who were not already watching baseball, flipped to the Brewers, just in time to see them bat around and send the Diamondbacks down to an 0-2 start in the best of 5 series. Ryan Braun, BFF and wingman for Packers QB Rodgers, slapped a two run homer. Seriously. Can you picture being in a Wisconsin bar and seeing those two walk in together? Who would drool more, male or female patrons?
Oh, and while I’m on the subject, when listening to ESPN Milwaukee’s Tuesdays with Aaron show, I was a bit shocked to learn that when Aaron did his Lambeau Leap into the stands, a female in the crowd evidently kissed his ass. Literally. And it was caught on camera. Fortunately, I missed this bit of cinematic history. Aaron already knew about it when Jason Wilde brought it up on the radio. He must have gotten an ear full in the locker room. Ladies, please. We know he’s pretty, but come on. Seriously? That crosses a line of decency and intelligence. I guess we should be glad she didn’t bite his ass.
So, the final score seems to be: WISCONSIN 4, the rest of you who wishes you were from Wisconsin, 0.
And speaking of ass….
I guess it was too much to hope for. I guess the sporting world in Wisconsin was on such a high that a certain ex-QB in Mississippi couldn’t take it anymore. He had to bring people crashing back down to his level. I’m not going to rant on Brett Favre too much. My fellow Pocket Doppler Angel, Kelly, did a fine job of it on her own. It’s a laugh out loud moment to read her comparison of Favre to a case of genital herpes.
Here’s just a thought, Brett. Have you ever said the words “Congratulations” or “I’m sorry” to Aaron Rodgers? You don’t even have to call a press conference to do it. Just call him. Or call Jason Wilde. You remember him. Call in to ESPN Milwaukee’s Green and Gold Today and tell Bill and Jason that you didn’t mean to sound like a passive aggressive shitheel on Saturday when you said that you were “surprised it took him so long ” to win the Super Bowl. Three years as a starter is long? Really, Brett? How can you not think people would take that the wrong way? Good GOD. Self-awareness not a strong suit, evidently.
You know, I’d really like to like you again. I want to see you inducted into the Pro Football Hall of Fame as a Packer. I want your name up on the Ring of Honor at Lambeau Field and I want to see it all happen without rolling my eyes and making comments about you under my breath. WHY must you make it so damn hard?
I will close with my favorite Tweet on the subject:
@TCHeadCheese Favre thought Rodgers would win a SB sooner? And we thought Favre would win at least one more than Trent Dilfer.