As yet another Friday comes and goes in this thing we call life, another weekend series for your Grizz also passes through the window of our souls. Those windows are not stained glass, however, but pure glass. Pure, see-through glass. Ones that you can see right through. If you look close enough, just peer in deep enough, you can see into the other window to our memories.
That reminds me of the Friday adventures of my youthhood. Every Friday from the time I was age 2 until the tender age of 14, my daddy, me, and Unkie Bruce went to watch the Grizz deliver a beatdown of a lifetime. EVERY FRIDAY. Can you even fathom that? That's at least 4 Fridays, yet not more than 2 billion. So for your pleasure, and to shut my therapist up, every Friday I will bring you yet another window to window memory. Just sit back, shut your mouth holes, and enjoy.
Friday, June 4th, 1989
Dear Diary,
The Three Amigos went to the PAD again today. Such a gay old time was had. I know I've gone to many a game in my day, but I still don't understand why we have to kiss after every strike is thrown. I mean, I don't mind it, but when it's just the three of us and nobody else is, we get some stares. I can't tell if people are being mean or just jealous. I'm assuming jealous. Anywho, after Li hit his 45th home run of the year onto Shaveland Avenue, the wings on the PAD almost blew off. I got soooooo super excited. Hugs were given, shoulders were rubbed, boners were waistbanded. I think dad had one too many Chocotinis. I had to go to the bathroom and knew that him and Unkie Bruce had been in there for awhile already, and I heard him in the stall. He kept yelling "I'm coming! I'm coming!" I just assume he was having a fight with mom on his new cellular telephone and she wanted him home soon. I was tired anyway from the previous night's game of Risk, so if mom wanted us home, I was happy. When dad and Bruce finally got back to our seats, they told me that as soon as they stopped sweating we could go home. "I just want to eat a wiener before we go", I said. They smirked at each other.
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3 comments:
Ah, memories of the Pad. I remember the first time I sat in the Michelob Dark Bleachers with my dad. It was an amazing bonding experience, like none other. Bravo to you, good sir, for sharing such fondly remembered events with the rest of us.
This is what makes the Grizz great.
I've always felt the speaker system in the Michelob Dark bleachers were too quiet! My friend and idol Ed Shouton of another famous Grizz-devoted blog totally agrees with me. Well, let's be honest I just agree with everything he says. He's terrific!
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