Opening Day Diary

Just watched CoCo mow down the Dodgers in the 9th for his first save of the year, with Kevin Bench acting as the hero with a 2-run bomb to give the Crew the lead for good. Wow, watching Brewers Live after the game - this lady is a train wreck sitting next to Davey Nelson. She's like the "Boom goes the dynamite" guy...only presumably gets paid for this gig.

"And he passes it to the man...and boom goes the dynamite"

[Awkward transition to Opening Day diary]

Now that I've had a day to reflect on the glory that was Opening Day, here's a little blow-by-blow of the day:

8:55 a.m. Pulling into the Blue Mound parking lot, we've been told by a Brewers insider that they'll start letting cars into the lot at 9 a.m. rather than 10 a.m., which had been publicized. The source was right (they actually were letting people in before 9), and we're "on deck" to get into the lot. Then the parking lot attendant decides to yap with the guy in the car ahead of us about God knows what.

9:01 a.m. Finally get up to the lot attendant, and we don't say a word. You're not sucking us in with some stupid story old man. We pretend to not speak English, pay our $8, and are on our way in 15 seconds. That's how you do it.

9:03 a.m. First of many mistakes of the day - poor communication by the Straub and Goldsworthy vehicles leave us not parking side to side, thereby cutting our tailgating area in half. Not a good start. Next year, we're have a planning meeting for this thing.

9:10 a.m. We've shaken off this early mistake, unpacked the Tahoe and heard "Brewers, Brewers, Turning up the Heat" for the first of about 96 times. We staked out a spot for the washers game adjacent to I-94. Bloody Marys and Miller Lites are served. Goldy reports that the port-o-lets still smell like Wrigley spearmint gum. Fearless prediction: this will not last.

10:15 a.m. The Didier short bus pulls into the lot. We're told that the last row of seats has been modified and turned into a toilet. I'm having a hard time picturing this from Matera's description, but given the lines already forming at the port-o-lets, I'll find out first hand before long. I count 6 port-o-lets for the entire Bluemound parking lot - comment from a random in line: "they spend $60 million on payroll and $60 on port-o-lets." Men are already climbing a hill on the north end of the lot to use the woods as a toilet.

10:50 a.m. Just took 3 games in a row from Straub in the washers game, including a series-changing automatic win with a washer perched on the frame of the box. $4 richer, I retreat to grill a burger.

11:30 a.m. Random guy wearing the Masters green jacket with the megaphone is yelling at people peeing on the hill. Life is just a little bit more fun when a megaphone is involved.

11:50 a.m. Waiting in line for the bathroom (you may notice a theme here) Goldy hears the early line of the day. Random guy talking to somebody on his cell phone: "don't call me late tonight. I plan to be dead by 8 o'clock." We haven't hit noon yet.

12:25 p.m. Beers, washers. Repeat.

12:45 p.m. With everyone heading to the game (1:05 start), the bathroom lines are ridiculous. I'm hitting the bus to see what this rigged up toilet is all about. Basically, they took out the cushion and placed a wood plank in its place, cut a hole in the wood, put a metal funnel in the hole, which funnels into a receptacle below the bus. Then hung a curtain rod around the "toilet" and put newspaper on the windows so there's no peep show. Fairly ingenious. I also witnessed the emptying of the receptacle. Gross.

1:10 p.m. Time to head over to the game. I haven't seen the national anthem at a Brewers game since 1988.

1:25 p.m. Safely in our seat, the score is 1-1 after Kent goes yard off Sheets. I still don't know how the Brewers scored their first run.

3rd inning (lost track of time during the game, so we'll measure the passage of time in innings now) Some lady (using that term loosely) is being helped up the aisle, with a large amount of vomit all over the front of her shirt. This lady must be 50. All class. Then some guy walks up behind her, with puke all over his shoulder. Then we see a guy taking off his replica Turnbow jersey because the back is full of vomit. It's like nuclear fallout down in section 420. Nobody sits within 6 seats of ground zero for the rest of the game.

4th inning Some fat guy 2 sections over is wearing a kilt, with his shirt off, spinning it around his head like a helicopter, trying to rev up the fans. This guy looks like a white version of the fat guy from Old School. I mean, rolls after rolls. Again, gross.

6th inning Goldy notices a guy wearing legit Zubaz. Goldy has an eye for these types of things.

8th inning Holy crap, it's the 8th already? Sheets is absolutely mowing them down. He gets a standing O walking up to take his at-bat in the bottom of the 8th. He strikes out for the third time. We don't care.

9th inning Brady Clark (who snuck into the game when I wasn't paying attention in a double switch in the 5th) gets up and promptly doubles for the second hit off of Sheets. The crowd boos Brady mercilessly like he's Gary Sheffield or something. I love it.

9th inning Ballgame. 7-1 Crew. Awesome.

2:50 p.m. That was the fastest game in the history of the world. At least it seemed like it. We're already on our way out of Miller Park and it isn't 3 p.m. yet. Thanks Ben.

3-4 p.m. More washers and beers. A Mike Kelley sighting. Mikey Morgan runs up behind Matera, puts the crook in his arm up to his crotch and grabs his gut, yelling "that's the cobra, motherf#!@!" Haven't seen that move before. Nicely done.

Aftermath That's pretty much it, we all go our separate ways, another successful Opening Day in the books. Good times.