A Midsummer Night’s Nightmare

Well, that was humiliating.

I’ve played on a basketball team that once lost 86-8, and more recently, on a softball team that lost 27-1 (last week), but watching the Brewers lose to the Cubs for the third straight game at Miller Park on Wednesday night might have been worse.

It reminded me of the 2005 Wisconsin-Michigan game in which the the Badgers came back in the 4th quarter to win. As a senior, I screamed myself hoarse. Later, Michigan fans would complain about “grossly inappropriate” behavior. After the 5th quarter, the band gathered on the north side of the stadium and used Parking Lot 17 Ramp as a makeshift amphitheater. Then we followed the band as it played the entire way back to State Street. It was fireworks, calliopes and clowns. Everybody’s dancing. The music never stopped.

Yeah. Last night was the exact opposite of that.

We stayed for the entire game, even the final out, when we couldn’t see the play because the Cubs fans in front of us were standing to cheer. We were already completely demoralized when a wrong turn took us toward the exit via the ramp. They were everywhere. Singing some stupid fucking song about Chicago and chanting “sweep.” We walked back and forth for at least 10 minutes completely surrounded by the deafening roar of jubilant Cubs fans. Every time we thought we had turned a corner there was more of them.

There is a game yet to be played, starting right now actually, and the Cubs are only ahead one game in the season series, and there’s plenty of baseball left, etc. But what’s truly horrifying is if the Brewers miss the playoffs by finishing two games behind the Cubs again, we’ll have run out of platitudes and we’ll be stuck with the memory of losing our armrests and elbow space in our own ballpark to fat, obnoxious Cubs fans for those three sweaty nights in July.

In life, and in baseball, there are some indignities simply too great to bear.


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2 responses to “A Midsummer Night’s Nightmare

  1. You have got to be kidding! A sweep in your own house. The Crew had to know this was big, ah huge. And then the Cubbies groupies. I even switched from drinking quality dark beer to drinking Miller in the hopes of changing how it was going on the field. I was bleeding Miller. The more I drank the more I bled. What a week for Cheeseheads. First listening to the Farve soup opera going on and on and on. Then the Little Bears carving out a new den in Beer City. Its like I was working on my Acclaim in the street. Curbside mind you. And this little fucking mosquitto would not leave me do my man thing. Like I am not in your backyard world. I have conceded that to you in June. Its yours, have it. But damn it the street is mine! Concrete. Gutters. Spilled oil, and in my case spilled antifreeze. I ignored the little shit and finally he/she got the hint. The street is mine. The Brew needs to think like that. That open clam shell is their kingdom. Well the season is still rolling. There is along way to go. Who said it is a marathon and not a sprint. Yogi?

  2. Pingback: Keep the Home Fires Burning « Viva Cerveceros

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