Friday, June 18, 2004
Wishing I were in Omaha
The 2004 College World Series opens today, and here I am in Austin. I should be touching down in Omaha right now, but instead I'll head there next Thursday... for a wedding. Perhaps I can squeeze in a game. We'll see.
Last year I sat in Rosenblatt Stadium when the Horns kicked off their title defense against Miami. It was an awe-inspiring experience. I've been to tons of huge Texas football games, and I saw Texas clinch a Final Four berth in a Burnt Orange sea of fans at the Alamodome two years ago. But I think that college baseball's mecca tops them all.
When Texas opens CWS play against Arkansas tonight, I won't be in Omaha, or even the Hard Rock Hotel in Vegas, where I watched Texas beat Rice two years ago. Instead the venue will be Legends sports bar, which holds a history of good mojo for us. My friends and I watched Texas clinch the 2002 CWS there, and we intend to sit at the same table. I'm even wearing the same clothes.
Still, I'm a little disappointed that I won't get to visit "Little Texas" this afternoon, or mix it up with the Arkansas fans. So in the spirit of reminiscing about my favorite UT sports experience, I thought I'd post the column I wrote last July about my trip to Omaha.
Enjoy!
************************************************
The Pregame Tailgate (July 2003)
By Andrew Fox
This month we celebrate the birthday of our great nation, so I thought I’d write July’s TPT about some of the things that make our country the greatest on Earth. The following is an account of my five days in Omaha during June’s College World Series. Baseball, Beer and the pursuit of happiness – You can’t find anything more American!
Friday
3:30 PM: My friends Chris and Stephanie greet me and we proceed to DJ’s Dugout for our first round of “pops,” as the locals call them.
3:35 PM: Another round, bartender!
3:42 PM: Chalk up round three. You know where this is headed.
7:01 PM: We move to Boston’s sports bar to watch my pre-CWS pick LSU play Stanford. Oh yeah, Game Five of San Antonio-New Jersey is coming up, too. *Yawn*.
7:03 PM: Our 5-gallon “Team Pitcher” arrives and the TV on our table has the ballgame on. Only a Jessica Alba lap dance could make this better!
8:45 PM: Stanford has a 6-2 lead, and the two best teams in the NBA have combined for 63 first half points. So much for sports and for my lap dance comment. A Jessica Tandy dance would outdo these snoozers.
9:37 PM: We enter Harrah’s casino in nearby Council Bluffs, Iowa, and bad signs abound. Our blackjack dealer has a long dirty-blonde mullet and a gold chain, beers cost money, and the joint’s lone attractive girl accompanies a guy sporting a molester mustache. This place makes Shreveport look like the Bellagio.
Saturday
11:30 AM: I awake to the nasty morning-after taste of beer mixed with homemade breakfast burritos, amazed that I’m not covered in vomit. My wallet tells me I broke even at Harrah’s. I don’t remember.
3:45 PM: We finally drag our hungover selves to Rosenblatt Stadium for Texas’ opener with Miami. The place is a madhouse, full of fans from, well, pretty much just Texas and LSU, though non-particpant Nebraska is well represented.
4:03 PM: We unload two reserved seats for $40 to buy three general admissions for $7 a pop – a $19 profit!
4:34 PM: Chris’ friends, stocked with coolers of Busch Light, insist that we join their tailgate. My Texas manners prevent me from declining their generosity.
5:24 PM: We head toward the stadium. Our benefactors toss us three beers apiece and tell us “good luck with the GA line.”
5:29 PM: Good luck? The GA line stands 700 deep, and admission has halted to one-in, one-out. We might have made a bad decision earlier.
5:57 PM: The same scalper that offered us a single for $60 two hours ago now asks $70 per for three tickets. My negotiating skills prove just slightly more effective than Jimmy Carter’s and $165 later we find our seats.
7:45 PM: Texas’ ongoing 10-2 rout continues a weekend of snore-fests. I need beer.
8:51 PM: ESPN cameras ignore my “canEs should Start Praying Now” sign, as Texas wins, 13-2.
9:21 PM: The nearby convenient store runs out of beer. We hurry to an overflowing McFly’s tavern, but for $3 Coors Light tallboys we brave the crowd.
11:32 PM: Time to try the Ameristar casino – fewer mullets, better looking girls, but less luck. I lose $20.
Sunday
4:45 PM: South Carolina eliminates LSU. So much for my pick. We head to Chris’ parents for a Father’s Day dinner.
9:46 PM: Fullerton knocks Stanford into the loser’s bracket at the same time Chris’s dad lobs his 103rd “Texican” comment at me.
10:23 PM: San Antonio wins the NBA title. It’s my third favorite moment of the night, behind the Omaha Steaks at dinner and watching the surprisingly good Tears of the Sun – Monica Bellucci… yummy.
Monday
4:37 PM: Chris has to work, so Steph and I slam a six pack as we stake out the general admission line before Texas’ game with Rice.
4:51 PM: We find our seats, but with an hour til gametime, we return to the parking lot and Steph uses her feminine wiles to score us beers.
6:31 PM: Texas leads, 2-0. My buzz tells me we’re going to win the CWS again.
7:13 PM: We relocate to better seats, following a quick detour for more beers. Rice subsequently explodes for a 7-run inning
9:18 PM: Rice closes out Texas, 12-2, and Steph and I meet Chris to drown our disappointment over pitchers at Boston’s.
2:14 AM: I polish off the last of our beer and fall asleep watching the Sopranos. The only thing that sucks worse than Texas’ loss is Paulie Walnuts.
Tuesday
9:57 PM: I land in Austin and learn that Texas beats Miami to avoid elimination. I dream about a CWS title again, and smile, because while 12 months separate me from another Omaha trip, only 12 minutes separate me from another beer.
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Last year I sat in Rosenblatt Stadium when the Horns kicked off their title defense against Miami. It was an awe-inspiring experience. I've been to tons of huge Texas football games, and I saw Texas clinch a Final Four berth in a Burnt Orange sea of fans at the Alamodome two years ago. But I think that college baseball's mecca tops them all.
When Texas opens CWS play against Arkansas tonight, I won't be in Omaha, or even the Hard Rock Hotel in Vegas, where I watched Texas beat Rice two years ago. Instead the venue will be Legends sports bar, which holds a history of good mojo for us. My friends and I watched Texas clinch the 2002 CWS there, and we intend to sit at the same table. I'm even wearing the same clothes.
Still, I'm a little disappointed that I won't get to visit "Little Texas" this afternoon, or mix it up with the Arkansas fans. So in the spirit of reminiscing about my favorite UT sports experience, I thought I'd post the column I wrote last July about my trip to Omaha.
Enjoy!
************************************************
The Pregame Tailgate (July 2003)
By Andrew Fox
This month we celebrate the birthday of our great nation, so I thought I’d write July’s TPT about some of the things that make our country the greatest on Earth. The following is an account of my five days in Omaha during June’s College World Series. Baseball, Beer and the pursuit of happiness – You can’t find anything more American!
Friday
3:30 PM: My friends Chris and Stephanie greet me and we proceed to DJ’s Dugout for our first round of “pops,” as the locals call them.
3:35 PM: Another round, bartender!
3:42 PM: Chalk up round three. You know where this is headed.
7:01 PM: We move to Boston’s sports bar to watch my pre-CWS pick LSU play Stanford. Oh yeah, Game Five of San Antonio-New Jersey is coming up, too. *Yawn*.
7:03 PM: Our 5-gallon “Team Pitcher” arrives and the TV on our table has the ballgame on. Only a Jessica Alba lap dance could make this better!
8:45 PM: Stanford has a 6-2 lead, and the two best teams in the NBA have combined for 63 first half points. So much for sports and for my lap dance comment. A Jessica Tandy dance would outdo these snoozers.
9:37 PM: We enter Harrah’s casino in nearby Council Bluffs, Iowa, and bad signs abound. Our blackjack dealer has a long dirty-blonde mullet and a gold chain, beers cost money, and the joint’s lone attractive girl accompanies a guy sporting a molester mustache. This place makes Shreveport look like the Bellagio.
Saturday
11:30 AM: I awake to the nasty morning-after taste of beer mixed with homemade breakfast burritos, amazed that I’m not covered in vomit. My wallet tells me I broke even at Harrah’s. I don’t remember.
3:45 PM: We finally drag our hungover selves to Rosenblatt Stadium for Texas’ opener with Miami. The place is a madhouse, full of fans from, well, pretty much just Texas and LSU, though non-particpant Nebraska is well represented.
4:03 PM: We unload two reserved seats for $40 to buy three general admissions for $7 a pop – a $19 profit!
4:34 PM: Chris’ friends, stocked with coolers of Busch Light, insist that we join their tailgate. My Texas manners prevent me from declining their generosity.
5:24 PM: We head toward the stadium. Our benefactors toss us three beers apiece and tell us “good luck with the GA line.”
5:29 PM: Good luck? The GA line stands 700 deep, and admission has halted to one-in, one-out. We might have made a bad decision earlier.
5:57 PM: The same scalper that offered us a single for $60 two hours ago now asks $70 per for three tickets. My negotiating skills prove just slightly more effective than Jimmy Carter’s and $165 later we find our seats.
7:45 PM: Texas’ ongoing 10-2 rout continues a weekend of snore-fests. I need beer.
8:51 PM: ESPN cameras ignore my “canEs should Start Praying Now” sign, as Texas wins, 13-2.
9:21 PM: The nearby convenient store runs out of beer. We hurry to an overflowing McFly’s tavern, but for $3 Coors Light tallboys we brave the crowd.
11:32 PM: Time to try the Ameristar casino – fewer mullets, better looking girls, but less luck. I lose $20.
Sunday
4:45 PM: South Carolina eliminates LSU. So much for my pick. We head to Chris’ parents for a Father’s Day dinner.
9:46 PM: Fullerton knocks Stanford into the loser’s bracket at the same time Chris’s dad lobs his 103rd “Texican” comment at me.
10:23 PM: San Antonio wins the NBA title. It’s my third favorite moment of the night, behind the Omaha Steaks at dinner and watching the surprisingly good Tears of the Sun – Monica Bellucci… yummy.
Monday
4:37 PM: Chris has to work, so Steph and I slam a six pack as we stake out the general admission line before Texas’ game with Rice.
4:51 PM: We find our seats, but with an hour til gametime, we return to the parking lot and Steph uses her feminine wiles to score us beers.
6:31 PM: Texas leads, 2-0. My buzz tells me we’re going to win the CWS again.
7:13 PM: We relocate to better seats, following a quick detour for more beers. Rice subsequently explodes for a 7-run inning
9:18 PM: Rice closes out Texas, 12-2, and Steph and I meet Chris to drown our disappointment over pitchers at Boston’s.
2:14 AM: I polish off the last of our beer and fall asleep watching the Sopranos. The only thing that sucks worse than Texas’ loss is Paulie Walnuts.
Tuesday
9:57 PM: I land in Austin and learn that Texas beats Miami to avoid elimination. I dream about a CWS title again, and smile, because while 12 months separate me from another Omaha trip, only 12 minutes separate me from another beer.
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