Friday, May 20th, 2011
Can’t wait to get to the ballpark!
Although I adore greasy cheeseburgers and institution-grade pizza, I just can’t bring myself to go to a baseball game without eating a hot dog, its casing filled with mysterious meat, frightening yet somehow delicious.
Last night, before the Braves got completely clobbered by the Phillies, LC and I stood in an excrutiatingly long line to get our weiner fix. Luckily we had stopped by the 755 Club for beers to keep us occupied.
Rather than the standard foot long I opted for a bratwurst with sauteed onions. LC got the foot long with cheese and sauteed onions. It was a sloppy mess. My brat was pretty good with the addition of bright yellow mustard. An order of fries complimented our trashy dinner (check out the gaudy packaging!) that we scarfed down at a table near the concessions, watching the game on one of the thousands of TV’s mounted on every surface. Another Miller Lite, and another, washed it all down.
The fries at Turner Field are disappointing. I wish they were shoestring but they are cut a bit too thick. Even more disconcerting, however, is the ketchup. I don’t know how it’s possible to fuck up ketchup, but somehow they have managed to purchase the worst tasting product. Surely delivered in vats, the stuff has a weird sweetness, kinda disgusting.
As the season draws to a riveting close, I’ll be back at the ballpark this afternoon. Today I will most likely get the old reliable foot long simply dressed with raw onions and mustard. And maybe some hot boiled peanuts if I’m in the mood for a sodium-induced coma.
It’s do or die for our Braves. Will there be cause to cheer or will there be a tear in my beer?