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Sunday, April 10, 2011

Item #24 - Join the 9-9-9 Club

"Because it's there" -George Mallory, when asked why he wanted to climb Mt Everest
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Why attempt the 9-9-9 Club? Because it exists . . . and because I like baseball . . . and because I like beer . . . . and because I apparently have a taste for large quantities of pig lips and assholes. 

What exactly is the 9-9-9 Club? Well, it's having 9 beers and 9 hot dogs over the coarse of 9 innings. You can have them at any time of the game, you just have to get all 18 down by the final out. Technically, it would probably be done at an actual ballpark. But I live in Boston, which I believe has the 2nd most expensive ticket in baseball after the Yankees. Add in $5 dogs and $8 beers, and we're talking about a $150 day. No thanks. 

So, Walter graciously decided to host the 9-9-9 home game (though not participate), as we grilled outside and watched the Sox take on the Yankees. Ryan decided to be the Big Papi to my Manny, as we attempted the Club in tandem. Below, the unedited and sometimes misspelled semi-live blog:

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1:15 - First pitch.
 

1:22 – 3 dogs down already for both me and Ryan. We figured it was best to sprint out of the gate with the dogs. We’re starting with turkey dogs, mainly because we don’t want to die from a sodium induced heart attack by the 9th. Their each 70 calories, and with 110 calorie buns, we’re talking about 1620 calories total . . . at least for the dogs. Add in 9 more delicious Keystone Lights, and we’ll be about 2500 calories deep for the game. Really, not as bad as I thought when we agreed to do it 

1:26 – Ivan Nova pitching in the bottom of the 1st for the Yankees. I think that’s a good thing. The Yankees-Sox games are usually a nice and robust 4 hours long. Hopefully some shitty pitching will extend that out even more. However, that also means extra time with Joe Buck and Tim McCarver. Dealing with those 2 may be worse than the 9 hot dogs.

1:29 – Buck and McCarver have their first round of “who can suck off Jeter more”

1:39 – Ken Rosenthal doing the sideline reporting. He’s wearing a bow tie. It’s awesome.

1:50 – Starting beer #3. Already feeling a little full. Not good.  That’s really what we’re fighting here. 9 beers in 3-4 hours really isn’t that much of a problem. We’ve done the Century Club multiple times before, which is about 8 beers in an hour and 45. And I’ve done Crazy 40 Hands a bunch of times, finishing 80 ounces of beer/malt liquor in around 90 minutes. So the alcohol shouldn’t be the problem (though considering I’m 31 and still occasionally doing the Century Club or Crazy 40 Hands, maybe it is the “problem”).  An inning and a half done.

2:06 – Its perfect weather. We’re at Walter’s house watching the game outside and grilling, just like in college. Perfectly clear day . . . and the moon is out. Not sure if that’s good or bad.

  
2:25 – Start of the 4th inning. 1 beer and 1 dog ahead of 1-per-inning pace. And frankly, the game is a little head of pace too. Just over an hour for 3 innings. That’s a little slow for a typical baseball game, but WAY too fast for a normal Sox-Yankees game. Damn pitchers duels. I want a slugfest!

2:33 – Just discussed the difference between Christiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi having sex. I think Messi would be a much more caring lover, while Ronaldo would probably last 2 minutes and only think of himself. He’d finish, and then put his hands in the air, tell himself how great he was, and leave the girl unsatisfied.  A – I’m not gay. B – The beers have slowly started to have an effect.

2:47 – Still the top of the 4th. Bucholtz just got yanked. Things are starting to slow down as I hit the halfway point. 5 dogs down, 4 and a half beers down. This is good. And Ryan just dribbled some beer on himself. Another good sign.

3:13 – “he’s dark skinned. I don’t know what flavor” – Matt on some guy named Xerxes

3:13 – “I wonder what the poor people are doing” –Walter\

3:14 – Granderson with a 2 run shot. I miss him. That’s a quality Tiger. Also, I have no idea who’s pitching for the Sox.

3:27 – Bottom 5. 6 beers down. 6 dogs down. Full, but not feeling like death yet. Though I do still want to punch Joe Buck and Tim McCarver.

3:31 – just had a bite or 2 of mac n cheese. Feeling cocky. I think the last 2 innings have taken about an hour and a half. Classic Yankees and Sox. This is going to be easy money from here on out. I think. Kind of wish we had a second TV outside here so we could watch the Masters.

3:45 – “of course I’ve seen his dong” –Me, talking about the Favre pictures

4:00 – Top of the 7th. 7 beers down. 7 dogs down. 3 hours gone. If I’m doing this during an NL pitchers duel, I’m screwed. I could have probably done all 9 of reach in a typical 3 hour AL game . .  .. but I wouldn’t be happy.

4:02 – “I don’t smoke enough. I really don’t” – Walter

4:10 – Just had a 5 minute discussion on Exit Through the Gift Shop about whether the whole thing a big mind fuck my Banksy or not. Way more philosophical discussion than I expected 7 beers deep into this. And I’m typing way too well. I expected a ton of gibberish by now. Either I need to drink more today, or I need to drink less on the whole and decrease my tolerance. Sigh.

4:16 – Wakefield’s in! I used to play MLB 2K all the time in college. I loved playing with knuckle ball pitchers. They’re a bitch to play against in computer games. If I ever have a kid, I think I need to teach him to throw a knuckle ball (if I knew how to throw one). Collect a MLB paycheck for like 25 years. That’s gold, Jerry!

4:23 – Seeeeeeeeeeet Caroliiiiiiiine. Bah! Bah! Bah! . . . . . . .. . . To quote Rachel Phelps from Major League – “I hate this fucking song!”. God damn pink hats. Seriously. I’m not even from Boston and I’m annoyed as shit with the majority of Boston fans. I actually wish the Sox would start sucking again and go back to .500 so I can get some goddamn tickets to the goddamn Tigers game when they’re here. Not that I’m bitter or anything. Bottom 8. 1 dog and half a beer to go. Hooray.

4:42 – “Victory tastes like a Girl Scout cookie?” -Angela
“No, like a girl scout” –Ryan
“That’s not right” –Walter

Aaaaaaand done. Wow. So full. Semi-drunk. But not feeling like death.


 
4:44 – Aaaaaand game over. JUST finished the last dog under the wire. Still counting down the seconds till the potential heart attack. If this were at a normal timed game, again, we’d be screwed. A Nice 3 hour and 35 minute long Sox-Yankees game. Long enough that I could have 9 beers and not type like a moron (I think?).

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Well, that was fun. . . . kind of. A nice drunken time, but filling as all hell. And today, the day after, my stomach and intestines, ummmm, regretted my decisions of yesterday. It was another beautiful 60 degree in Boston, and yet I didn't get out of the house until 4:00 when I had to make a run to Walgreens. Old. Tired. Lazy. Lethargic. Oh well. I'm in the Club*

*Yeah, the home game might be a little bit of a loophole, but cheating is ingrained in baseball. Corked bats, spitballs, steroids, and in the case of the crafty Eddie Harris, Vagosil, which will get you another 2-3 inches on your curveball. So let's just say this was done in the spirit of the game.

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