Games and Sports – Page 8 – A Good Beer Blog

Adam Dunn Apparently Does Not Suck So Much

It was one of the best games I have ever attended in any sport. Bizarrely, this morning Canadian sports media are not covering it as their lead story. Had Bay hit the run and Canada gone on to win, the nation would have gloated for years. But the outcome was immaterial to the quality of the game. Perhaps Canadian sports fans can’t appreciate the glory of achievement even in a close loss. If so, that wouldn’t be the case for those who were there. Conversely, the New York Times appreciated the moment the US reliever Putz faced in the ninth: “From the start, though, Putz could tell this game would be different from any he had experienced in a decade of professional baseball. The Rogers Centre throbbed with noise — it was the loudest crowd Putz said he had ever heard.” That is the big moment up top in the ninth – a man on second, two outs and Jason Bay at the plate fighting off pitches only to fly out in the end. The place had been going crazy for an hour up to that point after Canada’s minor league relievers twice got out of bases loaded situations. Heroic moments.

My children learned new words and new ways to use words. Many of those words were directed at USA right fielder Adam Dunn who spent the first half of the game parked in front of us before sending the game reeling with his three run homer. But I knew he did not suck as I saw him at Cooperstown in the home run derby in 2006 jack more than one out of the park. I have a deep belief that seeing sports live in a crowd is a very good thing and an important part of childhood. Fodder for character and an education that your classmate junior peewee “elite” soccer players are pretty much being led down a path.

Seeing a fan of the other side slagged by your crowd mates and then seeing him turn on them victorious and finger pointing is a life lesson. Seeing ultimately good natured but rough talk between adults should be shocking spicy thing. Watching reactions to great achievements and huge disappointments provides a foundation for future personal experience.

PGP 4.0: Is There An Anti-Pub Game Movement?

I think the Pub Game Project is the only beer related movement which has taken off with less haste than Lew’s recently reinvigorated Session Beer Project, now with its own blog and Facebook group. No time for social networking with the PGP as the only digital handiwork it should ever give rise to is a good round of shove ha’penny. Yet apparently (but much to my surprise) the PGP actually has enemies in very high places in Maryland:

A veteran state senator has abandoned his effort to ban drinking games such as beer pong and flip cup in Baltimore City bars in the face of a growing online lobbying effort. Sen. George W. Della Jr., a Baltimore Democrat, said such games encourage excessive drinking, which leads to raucous behavior in city neighborhoods. A bill he introduced late last month would have outlawed any games that award drinks as prizes in city taverns.

Wow! And the synopsis of the proposed law provided by the State Senate is even grimmer characterizing it as: “prohibiting a holder of a retail alcoholic beverages license or owner or operator of a bottle club from allowing drinking games or contests on the premises.” What is a drinking game? Darts where the loser buys drinks? What other pub games could fall under this law?

Sure, this is aimed at beer pong and is stoked by incidents like the banning of the game by universities. But this clearly goes further as the text of the bill itself indicates: warning, pdf! The proposed section 21-105.1(B) states that no license holder may allow the playing of

…a game commonly known as beer pong or any other game or contest that involves drinking alcoholic beverages or the awarding of drinks of alcoholic beverages as prizes.

I read that as very broad and going well beyond beer pong or drinks as prizes. Oddly, the proposed law applies only to Baltimore but, if violated, a licensee could be fined or even have their license pulled for allowing this somewhat commonplace if not traditional pastime. People playing games as they are enjoying drinks – even games involving drinks. Must be wicked.

It all reminds me of the steps taken in mid-1600s England to ban the toasting to the health of this politician or that member of royalty – not because it was unhealthy and led to over drinking and not because it was loud. It was because it was suspected as being seditious. Whisperers. Pamphleteers. Are these beer pong players, these darts for beer gangs, these shove ha’penny men not the same thing, the beginning of a modern day thin edge of a wedge? Never mind of what the wedge consists. Those kinds of questions might raise eyebrows. Best to know your place if you know what’s good for you. Wouldn’t want to be known as a pub gamer.

The Pub Game Project: Pub Conkers!

I think I only know about conkers because I am the child of immigrants. When I was little, grandpa came over from Scotland and was quite pleased to see that the schoolyard had a chestnut tree. Away he went picking up the windfalls and – all personal ethics and the Conkers Association rules being apparently damned – he soaked them in vinegar and baked them in the oven. After stealing all my Dad’s shoelaces, he drilled a neat hole in each horse chestnut and sent us off first to teach the game in the playground and then destroy hopes of all our elementary school classmates through unleashing the doctered nuts on the unsuspecting.

Apparently, some dreams are harder to dash as this story shows:

The Eagle pub in Askew Road, Shepherd’s Bush, held the tournament on Sunday which was attended by around 20 people…General manager Linda Sjogren said: “People were cheering the contestants on, there was lots of enthusiasm. “One of our regulars had collected about 60 conkers from a secret location. We still have some left over.”

The winner got a free pint a week for a year. Note: 20 contestants. Good news that it does not take a large crowd to actually pull off something so pleasantly batty in any given pub. Good also to know that there is a World Conker’s Championship held each fall in case your ambitions aim even a bit higher still.

The Sort Of Pub I Wish I Lived Near

I have to admit that I am not exactly a guy with a regular pub. Frankly, when I head to the States on holiday with our pals like I will tomorrow for ten days, I am more likely to have a favorite bar I go to regularly than I would have here. But none are like the pub mentioned at the BBC today, “The Pigs” at Edgefield:

Locals at a village pub in Norfolk are beating the credit crunch by bartering home-grown produce for pints. The Pigs public house, in Edgefield, near Holt, encourages drinkers to contribute to its traditional food menu in return for free alcohol. A sign placed inside the pub reads: “If you grow, breed, shoot or steal anything that may look at home on our menu, bring it in and let’s do a deal.”

Who wouldn’t want to go to a pub where this could happen: “someone will say ‘that rabbit tasted great’ and we say ‘here, meet the person who shot it’.” But it’s not the food that particularly attracted me when I checked out the pub’s website, it’s the games. Sure there are quizzes, darts, billiards, dominoes and even shove ha’penny but right there to the lower left of the page so generously titled simply “drinking” it says you can play “I Spy“. What better indication of a genial spirit than the invitation to spy with one’s little eye something that begins with “J”.

Notes From A Stay-cation

I don’t mind “stay-cation” except that you can’t spell it without the hyphen. Better than being called an unimaginative twerb who can’t get it together enough to take the family camping. I have excuses – I always have excuses. First, family reunion on Saturday. Then, the annual vintage base ball game that got rained out yesterday. Today, a beer writer or two visit as part of their multi-continental trip. So even though we are at home, we are getting something of an edjification.

I hope I don’t just watch TV but the twisted back makes that a possibility. I watched the ESPYs last night, thinking they would be lame. Best TV awards show ever. Justin Timberlake was a dreamy host – I say no more for fear of affecting my cred. Now, on a Monday morning in July, I hunt in vain for reruns of Mr. Dress-up and The Friendly Giant. What the heck has happened to the CBC? Thank God, I can at least look forward to Elwood Glover’s Luncheon Date at noon to go with my egg salad and parsley sandwiches.

The Tribute To Michael On The High Seas With Pete Brown

Plans for the international support the National Toast for Michael Jackson are taking off. Events so far are planned for across the US, London, Glasgow, Oslo and even my backyard. Getting the word out has been greatly encouraging for everyone but sometimes difficult. You all should be aware that Pete Brown, author of Man Walks into a Pub and Three Sheets to the Wind is off on the adventure of a lifetime researching his new book by traveling with a cask of India Pale Ale from its brewery of birth to the great sub-continent itself. But how to contact him? He’s already started out on his voyage. Good thing I earned that Morse Code badge in cub scouts:

Alan: [clickity-click-click…, various shortwave radio noises] Ahoy Pete! […click-clickity…] Are you there, Pete? Over!

Pete: [time passes……click-click…, faintly] Who the hell is that? The captain had to interrupt my coal shoveling! I have a deadline for a freelance piece in Coal Stokers’ Weekly in two hours!!!

Alan: [(silence)…click-click-click…] Jeesh, sorry. Have you heard about the National Toast for Michael Jackson to be held on the 30th? Can you take part? Where will you be? Over!

Pete: […clickity-click-click…] The day of the mass toast, I’ll be a day out of Tenerife on a nineteenth century tall ship with a barrel of IPA bound for India, the old-fashioned way. I wouldn’t have been doing it if it hadn’t been for Michael, and I think he would have approved. I’ll certainly be raising a glass, whatever time zone I’m in.

Alan: […click-click-click…] Fabulous! I’ll let you get back to your boilers. By the way, did you hear about the scandal in dwile flonking? Over!

Pete: […clickity-click…click…, fainter] Sorry…unclear…that did not come acro…message…as if you said dwile flon…dw… flonking!!! I’ll have to upda…article for…Flonking Monthly!!! […transmission lost…]

Wow! It sure is a bracing life of adventure for the freelance author on the high seas. But good for him to join in the tribute as he can. And you should, too. Give to the NPF or your local Parkinson organization and hold an event on September 30th wherever you are.

Last Weekend Of Summer

Somewhere in America I hit two 30 yard field goals. I could do that when I was a skinny kid but haven’t done it for close to 30 years.

Not really that hard to believe given I filled the gap with at least 20 years of semi-regular soccer but it is a different skill than that round ball with all its room for forgiveness. But I am way too big. I need to do a Ben. So I bought a bench. I need to find my inner ox within my outer Dom Deluise. It’s a good bench. At only 89 bucks USD at a Dick’s it’s what I can use rather than snap.

Why Don’t They Study Slam Dancing And Health Anymore?

Another day, another bunch of odd academic studies from lab coated laboratorians or policy documents from lobbyist trying to tell us all what beer does with you or what you do when you are with your beer. From France we learn, first, that “when the music gets loud, we tend to drain our mug of brew faster”:

Researchers staked out two bars in the west of France and observed drinking habits of 40 patrons. With permission from bartenders, the scientists pumped up the volume of a Top 40 station from 72 to 88 pounding decibels. In this earsplitting din of pop-music, patrons drank more in less time.

Is it possible that people who like to drink slowly and have quieter habits do not patronize places where Top 40 stations are played at 72 to 88 pounding decibels? Or maybe are they drinking to numb the pain? This article from here in Canada, next, seems to suggest that university age female drinking is new:

“You’re just an amateur if you can’t drink as much [as the guys] … you’re kind of like a sissy,” says Smith. “It’s not even always how much you’re drinking but what you’re drinking. Like, if a girl is drinking a stereotypical man-drink like whisky or dark rum or beer, it’s like guys are attracted to her or that it’s more impressive.

If they are suggesting this is new, well, that would be news to everyone I know in the mid-50s to early-40s bracket who were at college in Maritime Canada 25 to 30 years ago, who roamed in packs earning nicknames like “The Girls Who Said Woo”. Sure there were dumb, sad or bad incidents to all sorts of kids but risks and dangers were mitigated by group dynamics and common sense – designated drivers, not inviting jerks along and people just watched out for each other, like the time one evening’s overeager drinking buddy was stitched up by last night’s one from the med frat. Heck, on any given evening large lads like me were pointed at by a few gals as they said I was their boyfriend while I scowled a bit. If that does not still occur, that would have nothing to do with the drink so much as a sad loss of good manners.

Finally, US College basketball executives are considering an end to beer advertising during the “March Madness” national championship basketball tournament. Currently:

The NCAA’s advertising policy on its face…specifically prohibits ads for cigarettes, sports wagering, gambling, nightclubs, firearms and weapons, athletic recruitment services, and depictions of any student-athlete group in a degrading, demeaning or disrespectful manner. “Impermissible” ads also include NC-17-rated motion pictures, television programming or interactive games, and alcoholic beverages. But, ads for malt beverages, beer, and wine products that do not exceed six percent alcohol by volume are excepted, with limitations.

This is no small business as we are told that two beer marketers — Anheuser-Busch and Miller Brewing — spent nearly $30 million to advertise during the 2007 NCAA national basketball championships. But are these breweries advertising to the young or the old glory-days guys who pretend to themselves that they were as good back in the day?

I don’t pretend that there is not some degree of common sense or academic value in clever people noting these sorts of things but I am not going to join the new dries anytime soon, either. Sometimes in these matters we only hear of the sort of common sense that sees only one side of the matter and not the kids who like to sweaty slam dance to loud music, the gang of kids looking for safe dumb fun or the sofa surfers who just like to watch those ads for Bud with speaking frogs or with the guys who say “Wazzup?” How much money has A-B or Miller given to higher education through these ads or even otherwise? How many noisy slam-dancers just had a good time – again – and got home safe? How many of my pals met their spouses over pitchers of beer and now have nice, slightly Oldie Olson lives with quite faithful marriages?

Too bad there is no well-funded “Institute for the Realistic Contextualization of Studies and Statistics” which could help with those questions.

The Ontarios Against The Excelsiors Circa 1873

It was a fantastic time except I had to assist a crank (fan) after a keener and later mortified muffin (person of little experience and skill) let a bat fly into the stands. All is well and you can rest assured that the ER at the Samaritan Medical Center is dandy and the Sacketsonians are extremely kind…but, other than a wicked warm-up of many solid contacts, I missed playing our game but still caught a bit of the senior game between the Sackets Harbor Ontarios and the Rochester Excelsiors. High neato quotient nonetheless and greater plans are in the works.

Vintage Base Ball Tomorrow

Some neato happening tomorrow as a small group of vehicles will leave Kingston filled with guys who are going to play a game in another country that they have never played before. Heck, even though we’ve had a batting practice, all nine players have not even been in the same room together yet. But tomorrow we play vintage base ball, sort of the logical extension of the Kingston Society for Playing Catch.

What happened was there was a call out from Sackets Harbor, New York to tourism folk in Kingston to get a team together to take on their team, the Ontarios, in a game using circa 1865-1875 rules as part of their Can-Am summer festival. A team from Rochester is also coming. Kingston’s inclusion is warranted. Some research shows that in 1875 and not much before and not much after Kingston had a club, the St. Lawrence Base Ball Club, that had two levels of players – the Reds and the Brown Stockings – that briefly played at the highest level. In 1875, they played the Live Oaks of Lynn Massachusetts as well as another a team from New Haven, Connecticut which appear to be the teams that the two pitchers who claim to have invented the curve ball and beat one of them. In that year, they also seem to have beaten the Canadian Champions Guelph Maple Leaf Club as well as the London Tecumsehs. The next year, they appear to have joined Canadian Association of Base Ball but also went on a ill fated tour of central NY which led to most of the team being fired for indescribable conduct of some sort.

So we are holding ourselves out as the echo of the mighty St. Lawrence. It is an exploratory game, not only to see if we are any good and even if we are not to learn the rules and exactly which rules are to be used from the quickly moving post-Civil War period but also to check out the sort of uniforms and equipment might be needed to do this right. For tomorrow we are dressing something like Mennonite cricket players but I did buy a bat as well as a couple of lemon peel balls from the Phoenix Bat Company of Columbus, Ohio. The lemon peel has no core and is a bit bigger than a modern ball which makes it a bit easier to handle – which is good because we do not wear gloves.

So likely some photos tomorrow. Best of all, it is being sponsored by the Sackets Harbor Brewing Company, the good folks of which I have had the pleasure of getting to know through beer blog work. This bodes very well for lunch, whatever the score.