The Sedgwick's/McGee's Relay (10:00am - 7:00pm) As the old saw goes, there truly is no "I" in TEAM as it takes a collective effort to get through the Sedgwick's/McGee's Relay on any given Saturday.
The day starts off in a drizzle that's soaking my newly washed ride. Frustrated, hungover, and with sleep still lingering in my half-slit eyes, I slowly make my way to the first relay point of the day, Sedgwick's, a bar favored by fellow Hawkeyes. Having drawn the "early shift" straw the day before, I know that my first leg of the race will be a solo jaunt through at least two Blood Mary's and a shot.
Help arrives about 30 minutes later in my friend Zoom. He's no longer the zippy halfback he was in high school but, nevertheless, still clearly up to the day's challenge. Zoom shoulders half the load of our first bucket of beer and we order another. Presently, Kevin and Andy, lifetime gamers, round out our quartet as the opening kickoff ushers in the game.
Already feeling the alcohol's sweet effects on my cerebellum and knowing the marathon nature of the day, we order breakfast. I go with my tried-and-true Veggie Quesadillas, while Andy and Kevin rely on the always spectacular Sedgwick Special. If I'm not mistaken, Kevin's eggs are scrambled, salted and loaded beyond all recognition. Zoom miscalculates his order by selecting a Blackend Chicken sandwich. Against the din of the cheering fans, the waitress hears his order to be a Buffalo Chicken sandwich. And since there is no such sandwich as a Buffalo Chicken sandwich on the menu she simply sends his request to food order purgatory.
Reinforcements arrive in Latonia, her husband and two female friends from Kansas arriving midway through the first quarter. Somewhere in the distance, my friend Drew senses a "great disturbance in the Force" and female imbalance so he instinctively calls my cell phone. I assure him that we have room for him on our team, despite the packed house and cramped quarters. With Drew's pending arrival, our team is locked. Bucket after bucket of beers ensue.
And then, for some still-unknown reason, shots of Jagermeister appear before us. The dark nectar glistens against the sunlight, while I am blissfully unaware of the gathering storm. At this point in the game its 6-2, Iowa. How in the hell do the Hawkeyes get six points after giving up that early safety? No matter, more Jager.
Halftime. A bathroom break will do the team good.
Coming back to the table, I actually felt fine. Standing up, walking around and relieving the burgeoning pressure in my bladder will allow me to survive today's marathon. Oh, waitress? Shots again.
Third quarter, fourth quarter. What the hell, it's now 6-4, Iowa? I thought we were watching a football game, 6-4 is more akin to a World Series box score. The horn sounds and it's a final. Iowa eeks out an ugly, ugly victory.
The only thing uglier is the girl who's caught my eye. Maybe it's the faltering light or the smoke or the, God-knows-how-many drinks I've had but she is looking good. Damn good. And... is she looking back at me?! Nope.
Any victory needs to be celebrated with more shots and this time I think we get Lemondrops. At least I think they're Lemondrops for I can no longer see, smell or taste. My hearing is 50/50 but I'm pretty sure that I won't need that sense for the rest of the day.
What's this? Miller Light promotional girls in sexy referee outfits dispensing free wares? Well come on over, baby. Sure, I'll give you my personal information, what do I get in return? A cold calculated business transaction and she's gone.
Okay, we've got to settle the check and get to the next relay spot. What-in-the-name of-all-that's-holy? $563 fuckin' dollars! Fortunately, an ATM is conviently located within the bar's confines. I know immediately and ominously that this will not be my last run-in with him and his ilk.
Left foot, right foot. Damn, that sun sure seems fuckin' bright! Find a cab. What? I drove? Don't drive drunk, Luke. Where are my keys? Vroom! To the next bar we go. Okay were here. Right, park directly in front of McGee's because that way when I come out, I'll see my car. What? These doormen are checking my ID again? I've only fuckin' been in this fuckin' bar 60,000 fuckin' times before. Including every Saturday during college football season for the past five years that I've live in this city. I no longer know who in my cadre remains at this point, nor do I care really. Sure it's a team effort, but, goddamnit, I'm still here. And that's all that matters. Shots please, barkeep! And where's the closest ATM?
Damn, that floor here in the bar looks inviting. I think I'll bend over and touch it. Funny, the world's gone perpendicular. Okay, I've got to go home. What? Who's this girl next to me? I thought I was with the one that my buddy's kissing? No? Okay, I must be with her then. What is her name again?
I'll drive, thank you very much. Go west, young man, towards the setting sun. And south at some point, I think and hope. Ahhh, my place. We made it. My buddy and his girl go off somewhere and my girl and I go to my bedroom.
Come in and sit on my bed, girlie. She cute, I think and hope. I like laying next to her and ... zzzzzz zzzzzz zzzzzzzzzz.
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Technorati: Satire, Humor, Funny, Chicago, Snarky, Lukateake
